Like Eating Glass
by rgs38
Summary: When Wordy is forced to take lethal action, he has to deal with the fallout and emotional repercussions. Cursing, references to abuse, suicide, death, the whole gamut of dark and depressing. You've been warned.
1. Chapter 1

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 1

_Don't ask me where this title comes from and don't ask my why all my titles recently have started with the word 'like,' I don't know why and it's kind of bugging me; but enough about that. I've got a really good feeling about the story. I don't know for sure where I want to go with it but I've got some ideas and I'm really working hard to get better with internal thoughts and descriptive imagery. Tell me what you think about the story, about the descriptions, give me hints about where to go, please give me some feedback. Incase you didn't know, I don't own Flashpoint, I don't really own anything except a ton of college loans, so on that note..._

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><p>"Emily? Emily, just focus on me right now. Let's just take a deep breath here." Jules spoke calmly, her head barely showing from behind the heavy metal shield that Wordy held in front of them in his left hand.<p>

"No, no, no! Just get out. Just let me do this...I have to do this." Tears ran down Emily's face as she cried openly. The gun shook in her small hands. It looked huge in her tiny fingers, splayed thinly against the dark metal. Her hands were a ghostly white color as she squeezed the grip of the gun with all her might and had her finger stretched and resting cautiously on the trigger.

"Emily, Emily you are so brave sweetheart. You're twelve years old, is that right?" Jules asked as the girl nodded her head shakily. She was keeping eye contact but she kept the gun trained on the man before her. "Wow, I wasn't as brave as you are when I was twelve. You're standing up for yourself and that's really hard to do but I promise you, Emily, I promise you that he will never hurt you again." Jules ended confidently but Emily didn't seem to believe the message.

Her bare feet stood on the cold tile floor. It was the early part of the winter but it was still freezing cold out. He saw a shiver rise through her body and reach her arms and hands as she subtly shook. She seemed even more frail as she quivered and bit her lip. Wordy heard the chatter in his ear, the team speaking to each other, possibly to him but he didn't listen. He was stuck on the blood.

"No...no." She said softly, more to herself than anyone else in the room. It was silent except for the whipping wind hitting the loose shingles of the small house. "I should have done this a long time ago." She steadied her hands as she cocked the hammer back and the muscles tightened in her hand.

The wind itself seemed silenced as the ringing of gunshot filled the air.

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><p><em>I know, super shot and a cliffhanger, I'm sorry. Good news: I extensively outlined this story; seriously, it took me about three hours to get this outline written, it's intense. Bad news: I'm really really tired and I think I'm going to go to bed early. I was expecting to be able to post a few chapters tonight but that doesn't look like it's happening. Other bad news: my wrist is killing me. You guys know how I'm accident prone...well...yeah...we'll see how that turns out. More to come soon, give me some review candy please.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 2

_It took me a really long time to figure out if I wanted to do the Flashforward thing, I was planning on just going on from where the last chapter left off but when I outlined, this worked better. Whenever I outline things turn out shorter than I usually end up writing when I'm just going, so we'll see what happens. Please give me feedback, I'm working on descriptive imagery and incorporating character's thoughts more (though I'm not sure how much of that will be in this chapter). Okay, still don't own Flashpoint, as if I need to remind you._

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><p><strong>Earlier That Day<strong>

Even in the parking garage the cold wind of the unforgiving Toronto winters bit at the exposed skin of their hands and faces. Ed and Wordy jogged from their parked cars to the elevator and willed for it to come faster. When the doors opened they jumped into the small box and repeatedly pressed the door close button in an attempt to keep the warm air from escaping.

"It's gonna be an awesome day." Ed said sarcastically as he cupped his hands and exhaled into them before rubbing them together.

"Oh yeah, I love this weather almost as much as I love the blistering heat." Wordy continued the sarcastic tone as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "You'd better not put us in the shoot house today." Wordy said a bit more seriously. Ed rolled his eyes. "You really think I'd be that cruel to you guys?" He asked with a smile.

"Um...yeah!" Wordy said jokingly as they stepped out of the elevator.

"Better question: would I really do that to myself?" They both laughed as the walked towards the locker room and greeted Sam and Jules in the gym. They were just beginning their workouts as Spike walked from the locker rooms and towards them.

"Isn't it a beautiful morning?" He said with a huge smile.

"Yeah, I mean, we should seriously spend the day sunbathing." Sam added as he laid down on a bench press and began lifting the weights.

"Don't give me any ideas." Ed said in his best serious voice. They all laughed and turned to their tasks as Ed and Wordy continued on their way to the locker rooms.

"Oh, Spike," Wordy said as he stopped short and turned back to the gym, followed by Ed. Wordy started undoing the clasps on his duffel bag as he spoke to Spike. "I've got that book you lent me, I really liked it..." He trailed off as he dug through his bag and a smile came to his face.

"What's up?" Greg said as he walked out of the briefing room already in full uniform. Wordy smiled as he pulled a handful of crayons and a few dolls dressed in pink and purple dresses. Spike and Ed were already in full blown laughter as Sam and Jules tried to contain theirs.

"I told them how yesterday we were really bored and we had to do a lot of paperwork...I told them it's like when they have homework...I guess they wanted to make sure we were entertained today." Wordy had a huge smile on his face as he dug through what must have been a box of crayons dumped into his bag. "Here, Spike." He said as he handed him his book, now with a few stray marks of color.

"Alright, alright, let's go." Ed said as he and Wordy made their way to the locker room. Wordy dug placed his bag on the bench before opening his locker and looked through it. "What is that, the 96 pack of crayons or something?" Ed asked as Wordy continued to scoop out the colors and try to keep them from rolling off the bench.

"I think so." Wordy said, his smile never leaving his face.

"I don't need to tell you how lucky you are Wordy." Ed said with a solum nod. "Wait until they're teenagers..." Ed trailed off and closed his locker, already changed. Spike and Sam walked into the locker room.

"Boss says we've got ten until the briefing." Sam relayed as he moved to his locker, careful to avoid the crayons scattered on the floor. Spike opened his locker and seemed to dump a small box of metal screws and nails onto a shelf.

"Here, Wordy." He said as he tossed the small box across the locker room. "You need this more than me today." Wordy smiled and thanked him as he got down on his knees and collected the crayons. They barely all fit into the box as he placed it on the top shelf of his locker. He took the dolls from his bag and sat them on the shelf next to each other.

"Cute." Sam remarked as he buttoned his uniform. He turned to walk out of the locker room with Ed as Spike finished up changing.

"Come on Wordy." He said over his shoulder as he walked to the door, still buttoning his shirt.

"I'll be there in five minutes, stall for me Spike." Wordy said jokingly.

"Copy that." Spike said as the door closed. Wordy pulled his boots off quickly and threw them into the bottom half of his locker along with his bag of gym clothes. He quickly changed into his uniform and, got up to close his locker before pausing for a moment. He looked at the two dolls, he recognized one as Claire's and one as Lilly's. He readjusted Lilly's doll so it wasn't slumped over as he smiled. He pushed the box of crayons a bit further fro the edge of the shelf and, without consciously noticing, he went to smell his hand. He inhaled the waxy scent that could only come from crayons and smiled as he remembered telling Allie not to eat the macaroni and cheese yellow. He closed his locker and grabbed his binder from the bench as he jogged from the locker room and into the briefing room.

"All I'm saying is that if Babycakes felt like she was appreciated, she might not go on the fritz so often. I mean, it's worth a shot, isn't it?" Spike said passionately as Wordy nodded to everyone and mumbled an apology as he finished buttoning his shirt.

"Good, Wordy's here so now Spike can stop stalling." Greg said knowingly. Spike shrugged at Wordy and they all laughed. "Okay team," Greg said as he called for their attention again. "We don't have any warrants today and I know that we finished up all the paperwork yesterday so we're going to do some drills, some combat training, gun range, just keeping busy."

"I know we haven't had a call in nearly a week but we're going to stay sharp." Ed took over and looked to Wordy. "We're going to start with close quarters combat." They both smiled at the declaration and Spike groaned.

"It's okay Spike, we'll all tie one hand behind our backs for you." Sam joked as Spike rolled his eyes.

"I'll get you today, Samtastic. I've been practicing." Spike said as they stood up and moved over to the training mats.

"Just don't kill each other." Greg called after them. It was his turn to roll his eyes as none of them seemed to listen and he jogged after them. Wordy and Ed kicked Sam and Spike off the mats.

"This is a training activity boys, not a school yard scuffle." Ed said as he and Wordy demonstrated some different stealth take downs.

"See, you've got to get a real vice grip for this one." Wordy said as he demonstrated the proper grip for a sleeper hold on Ed. He didn't actually preform the move but he showed the motion a few times from a few angles. "See? Nice and easy." He added as Jules laughed.

"Yeah, maybe if you're two feet taller than everyone." She said as she looked up at Wordy. Everyone laughed as Greg placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on Jules, give it a shot." Wordy said as he waved her onto the mat.

"Against you? Seriously?" Jules said as she looked up at him.

"Yeah against me." He said as he turned his back to her. "You can do it, get close and then-" Before he finished Jules had her arms around his neck for a minute. She released the pressure before she hurt him. "...get me by surprise." He finished his sentence as he turned to look at her. "Good." He said as he instructed everyone to split up and practice. He walked between the groups and perfected their forms until the loud ringing of the alarm sounded. They jogged to the locker rooms as they listened to the call coming over the speaker.

"Team One, Hot Call." Winnie's voice came clearly over the intercom. "Possible domestic dispute, shots fired at 72 Eagle Lane." They quickly gathered the rest of their gear before heading off to the trucks and packing the rest of the supplies.

"Let's keep the peace." Greg said as he and Ed led the way.

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><p><em>I should mention that I know nothing about close quarter combat, guns, really anything other than what they show, so I may very well have gotten this wrong. Tell me what you think, please. More will probably be posted tonight, I'll see where this icky, rainy day takes me.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 3

_I'm going to try and pound this story out pretty quick, I'm thinking I want to try and finish it this weekend but that might be pushing it. I've only got about three weeks left in the semester so I want to finish this off before I get really crazy with finals. So on that note, onward! I still don't own Flashpoint and I'm still looking for reviews. All this writing I've been doing is going to be leading up to a long, awesome story that I've been holding off on for a while. I want to make sure I'm really getting everything perfect in that, so tell me what to do better in this!_

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><p>Wordy gazed out the window as Spike drove the command truck down the suburban road. They'd abandoned the city a few minutes ago and were driving through the normal looking neighborhood towards the address Winnie had given them. The gray skies set an ominous tone as Wordy sat quietly, gathering his composure.<p>

"You okay, Wordy?" Spike asked as he glanced towards the passenger seat. He drove carefully down the narrow roads.

"I'm good." Wordy readjusted himself and sat up a bit straighter. "You know, domestics..." Spike nodded in understanding. Wordy hated domestic calls. He had a huge heart and he hated seeing people getting hurt, especially people who were vulnerable. Women and children were supposed to be protected, not beaten or abused. It wasn't a secret that he had saved his wife from a violent marriage, Wordy was Shelly's knight in shining armor and the most over protective father his three daughters could ever have. The idea that a father or husband could hurt the people he was supposed to love bothered him and angered him. He checked himself again. _Got to stay calm here. _He reminded himself. _Doesn't matter what the subject's done, we've got to keep the peace._

In the distance they were able to see the flashing lights of the police cruisers and he took another deep breath to calm himself. Spike pulled the command truck up to the far curb and they exited the truck to take stock of the situation. There were a few uniformed officers setting up a perimeter on the scene and getting the nosy neighbors back into their homes as Greg and Ed approached one of them. Wordy took a look at the house in front of them. It was overall nondescript, the yellow siding was slightly discolored and the trees in the front yard barely held onto their leaves in the now whipping wind. Wordy turned his back to the breeze and looked at the rest of the neighborhood. He took in the uniform appearance of the homes and the neatly trimmed lawns. Greg and Ed turned form the officer and Greg started to speak into the radios.

"First responders say there were three shots fired from inside the house. Neighbor called it in, I'm going to talk to her." Greg walked over to the perimeter and started to speak to an elderly woman as Ed took over on the radios.

"Spike, you're in the truck, we need some information." Spike nodded before speaking.

"Someone get the license plates on the cars in the driveway and I'll run them, make sure we don't have any surprises." Spike added as he shut the door.

"Jules, see if you have eyes anywhere and then find a perch, you're Sierra One." Ed said as she looked at the drawn blinds of the house. "Sam, look for some less lethal options, we don't know what we're dealing with. Wordy, help Jules with eyes and look at entry options." Ed finished as he used his binoculars to get the license plate information for Spike.

Wordy and Jules grabbed bags of gear from the trucks and evaluated their options about where they would go to get eyes. The home was small and simple. A few concrete steps led up the solid wood front door. There were only a few windows in the home and all of them had blinds covering any view in.

"Maybe here." Wordy pointed to a spot on the blueprints, there was a backdoor that they weren't able to see from where they were. Jules nodded and Wordy relayed the information to Ed as Spike's voice came over the radio.

"Looks like the owner of the house is Andrew Bornstien. He has one daughter, Emily Bornstien. Nothing on the mother, I'll keep digging. The car in the driveway belongs to an uncle, Devon Bornstien, the father's brother." Wordy and Jules had quietly made their way to the back of the house and were setting up the small, fiber optic camera to slip under the door.

"Neighbors say that the dad is a little short with people, has a temper but they've never had any problems. They say the girl is quiet, timid at time but polite. Spike, anything else?" Greg asked as he walked back to the truck.

"I think I have something here, it's confidential so give me a second." Spike said as he frantically typed on his computers. "Bingo." He said energetically before his expression and inflection dulled. "It's a file from Children's Services. They visited the house yesterday, a full investigation is going to be opened, there's some signs of abuse but nothing substantial enough to remove Emily from her father's care." Spike explained bitterly. Wordy's blood boiled at hearing Spike's words but he channeled his energy into assembling the snake cam.

"Alright guys, let's go careful here." Greg's voice seeped into their ears and calmed all of their nerves. "Spike, get the social worker down here, let's see what exactly they found. The girl might have talked and the Dad might be angry so let's account for that. Wordy, Jules, you have eyes yet?" Greg asked just as they flipped on the screen and saw the picture flicker to life. Wordy and Jules looked carefully at it for a moment to make sure that their eyes weren't deceiving them. Jules found her voice first.

"Boss, this isn't what we think it is." She started as she turned the small screen more towards Wordy. "The girl has the gun on one of the men, one of them is on the ground and looks hurt."

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><p><em>I know this is short, these first few chapters were going to be short to begin with but then outlining also makes everything shorter (or so it feels). So, what do you think so far? Suggestions? The next chapter is going to get pretty intense. Probably will post more tonight. <em>


	4. Chapter 4

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 4

_I know this call feels like it's going pretty quick, I actually didn't intend to write it when I started this story. I was planning on taking that first chapter (obviously a more detailed version of it) and just going on from there but I liked this structure and I feel like the backstory is kind of important for this. Things pick up here and I just want to throw out the warning that there's going to be references to abuse and things are going to get kind of heavy from here on out. That said, tell me what you think of this. Are you liking it, because it's not turning out as good on paper as it did in my head? Still looking to the stars, wishing I could own Flashpoint..._

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><p>Everyone was silent for a moment as they took in the weight of the information relayed. It barely seemed like an option that the situation had flipped and that the victim had gotten the jump on her abuser. Wordy mentally kicked himself as he starred at the video screen in his hands and saw the blurry images in front of him. Greg seemed to take the information in stride as his voice came back over the radio.<p>

"Okay, change of plans here guys." He said as he looked over to Ed. "Jules, I want you to talk to her, last thing she probably wants is another man. She'll trust you more. Ed, I want you to take over looking for a Sierra shot incase we need it." Ed nodded and left the van.

"Boss, the phone looks like it's disconnected." Spike said as he looked at records. "The bill hasn't been paid yet." Greg nodded at the news.

"Okay. Sam, Wordy, and Jules meet up in the front of the house. Wordy and Sam are going to cover with shields. Jules, you up for doing this in person?" Greg asked as Wordy and Jules made their way back to the street in front of the house.

"I think so. You'll feed me on the fly?" She asked as Wordy and Sam got the shields out of the trunk.

"Yeah, Spike's getting in touch with the social worker now. If I get anything helpful I'll let you know." Greg said as he smiled at her. "You can do this, nice and slow. She's afraid and she's overwhelmed right now, just keep her calm and make her feel safe." Greg said as she nodded in understanding.

"Calm, safe, slow. Got it." She said confidently.

"Try to get the injured man out, this is just like any other negotiation. Con-"

"Connect, respect, protect. I've got it Sarge." She said with a smile. He nodded and turned towards Wordy and Sam. "Let's go." Jules said as they moved towards the back door again. Wordy stood to Jules's left, Sam to her right as they made their way to the door. The angle was such that they were able to see the situation unfolding but the girl had her back to them. Wordy rested his shield against the side of the house gently and began to pick the lock on the backdoor. When he felt it click into place, he nodded and gathered his shield before cracking the door silently.

"I still don't have an angle for a perch. I'll try the back." Ed said over the radio as he struggled to find a spot that would help them. Wordy and Jules were inside the house and Sam was making his way through the door when Emily heard them and whipped her head around.

"Who are you!" She yelled, seemingly unsure of what was happening. Tears rolled down her face and she looked more afraid than anything. "Don't come any closer!" She pointed the gun in their direction before quickly swinging it back down towards the man kneeling in front of her.

"Emily, my name is Jules Callaghan. I'm a police officer with the Strategic Response Unit and I'm not here to hurt you." She assured Emily as Sam and Wordy positioned themselves in front of Jules. Emily's eyes darted from Jules, to the man she had the gun on, to Sam and Wordy, to the wounded man.

"S...stay there." She said, softly at first but still confident. Jules nodded.

"We're going to stay right here, Emily. I just want to talk."

"Jus' shoot 'er already..." the man with the gun to his head spoke in a slurred drawl as he looked towards Wordy.

"Sir, do not move and do not speak." Wordy said firmly with a bit of resentment in his voice. As he glanced down at the man he noticed a trail of blood down the young girls leg from under her torn skirt. He felt his heart race even more as he whispered into the radio. "I think she's hurt, blood down her leg." He didn't risk speaking anymore in the quiet house but he saw Jules nod subtly.

"Spike's talking to the social worker now, I'll get you more information in a few minutes, just get her talking." Greg said calmly.

"Emily, I just want to get everyone to a doctor if they need. It looks like the man over there needs a doctor, can you tell me his name?" She asked as Emily glanced at him. There was a bullet wound in his upper thigh and it was bleeding fairly rapidly.

"T...that's Uncle Devon." Emily said shakily as more tears came to her eyes. "I think he's dead." She nearly whispered as she started to cry.

"Emily," Jules said loudly to get her attention. "Emily, take a deep breath with me." Jules said as she inhaled deeply a few times with Emily. "This is my friend Sam." Jules said as she put her hand on Sam's shoulder. "Would it be okay if he goes over and checks on your Uncle Devon?" Emily looked at him closely before shakily nodding. "Thank you Emily." Jules said as she repositioned behind Wordy's shield. Sam slowly walked over to the man on the ground and checked his pulse before whispering into the radio.

"Barely breathing, lots of blood loss, we need to get him out now." He kept his shield covering the two of them as Jules started to speak again.

"Emily, Sam is telling me that you're Uncle, he's hurt kind of badly. He needs a doctor." Jules paused and took a careful look at the girl. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot as they nearly pleaded for Jules to give her some solution to her problem. "Is it okay if Sam takes your Uncle to see a doctor?" She pushed a bit and, after a few seconds, saw a subtle nod from Emily. "Sam, you can take him to the ambulance." Jules said as she saw Sam position and lift the man. He moved quickly out the back door again and disappeared from sight as Jules turned her attention back to the situation in front of her.

"Thank you Emily, that was a very nice thing for you to do." She said gently as Emily nodded. Jules moved a step closer and finally was able to see the blood that Wordy was speaking about. "Do you need a doctor, Emily? Because you've got some blood on your leg, are you hurt?" Jules asked gently. Emily started to shake at the questions and new tears came back to her eyes. Jules nodded and took a breath as she head Greg's voice over the radio again.

"Social worker says that there isn't a whole lot of evidence. Dad's a drunk but he's functioning. A teacher noticed that Emily's arms were bruised badly, that she would freak out if one of the other kids touched her, she was almost afraid of boys. Full investigation's been launched against the father." Greg paused as his voice grew heavier. "I don't want to speculate here but what you guys are describing to me is looking a lot like sexual abuse. Go really slow Jules." Greg said cautiously.

She shook like a leaf in the cold air. The room was dark as shadows fell across the floor. Emily was small in build and the large gun in her hands made her seem even smaller. Her blond hair kept falling over her face but she quickly swiped it away with her left hand or occasionally by blowing it away from her eyes. Her eyes looked like they should have been a bright green but Wordy thought that they seemed dull, almost lifeless despite the red, puffiness that surrounded them.

"Yur such a lil' shit; more truble than yur worth..." Her father again began speaking.

"Sir, shut up!" Wordy yelled, his anger getting the better of him for a moment.

"Emily? Emily, just focus on me right now. Let's just take a deep breath here." Jules spoke calmly, her head barely showing from behind the heavy metal shield that Wordy held in front of them in his left hand. She tried to get the girl's attention again but Emily shook her head.

"No, no, no! Just get out. Just let me do this...I have to do this." Tears ran down Emily's face as she cried openly. The gun shook in her small hands. It looked huge in her tiny fingers, splayed thinly against the dark metal. Her hands were a ghostly white color as she squeezed the grip of the gun with all her might and had her finger stretched and resting cautiously on the trigger.

"No solution." Ed said over the radio as he heard things escalating.

"Emily, Emily you are so brave sweetheart. You're twelve years old, is that right?" Jules asked as the girl nodded her head shakily. She was keeping eye contact but she kept the gun trained on the man before her. "Wow, I wasn't as brave as you are when I was twelve. You're standing up for yourself and that's really hard to do but I promise you, Emily, I promise you that he will never hurt you again." Jules ended confidently but Emily didn't seem to believe the message.

Her bare feet stood on the cold tile floor. He saw a shiver rise through her body and reach her arms and hands as she subtly shook. She seemed even more frail as she quivered and bit her lip. Wordy heard the chatter in his ear, the team speaking to each other, possibly to him but he didn't listen. He was stuck on the blood that ran down her leg. The blood that was the signal of the great ordeal she had been through. The blood that was forced from her body, like so many other things she was forced to do.

"No...no." She said softly, more to herself than anyone else in the room. It was silent except for the whipping wind hitting the loose shingles of the small house. "I should have done this a long time ago." She steadied her hands as she cocked the hammer back and the muscles tightened in her hand.

The wind itself seemed silenced as the ringing of gunshot filled the air.

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><p><em>I know, you still have that cliffhanger but I think you know where it's going. Tell me what you think. I was hoping to get more done today but I just could not focus for the life of me. Well the emotional angstyness is going to really pick up in this next chapter...as if you haven't had enough depressingness. More to come tomorrow (assuming I don't fall down a flight of stairs or something along those lines.) Three more weeks of class and then I can relax...not really, I'm working all summer, but still!<em>


	5. Chapter 5

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 5

_Okay, it's bright and early on this beautiful Saturday morning and I figure it's time for a new chapter. It's kind of funny because this is where I kind of intended for the story to start, so this was originally chapter 2, but I thought I needed a little more backstory to lead up to this. Tell me what you think please. Just giving some credit where it's due: I got the structure of the SIU interview from the wonderful Tinkerpanda's story, "Long Ride Home." You guys know it by now, but I don't own Flashpoint, I only play with the characters...well if by 'play with' I mean 'put them through hell.' P.S. The beginning of this chapter is kind of graphic._

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><p>Time seemed to slow as Wordy felt himself pull the trigger of his gun; an act so repetitive, so second nature from his training, felt new...felt inhuman. It was almost as if he could see the bullet fly from the barrel of his gun and travel across the room. He could see the bullet meeting its target, her wide eyes shocked and afraid. A spattering of blood arose from the wound as her head whipped away form the impact, an unconscious movement which did her no good. She was dead before she hit the ground. The blood seeped from the small hole in the side of her forehead, Wordy didn't even want to think about the exit wound as his eyes remained glued to her's. Those dulled, green eyes that looked so out of place on a girl so young were now glazed over, still open, still starting at her killer.<p>

There was movement around him, around her, but he didn't notice. He was still standing as he was, the shield propped in one hand, the gun extended in his other. Jules was no longer by his side, he saw her leaned over the girl before him but he knew there was no point. Spike ran in and out of his line of sight as he secured the father, still sitting on the ground with the sick, drunken smile on his face. There was someone near him now, someone speaking directly to him, but his eyes didn't move. They were hurting a bit; he didn't remember if he'd blinked since he'd fired his gun but he wasn't about to do so now. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped at the contact, finally breaking his gaze. He saw Greg's lips moving but he wasn't hearing a word that was being said to him.

"W...What?" He asked, his voice horse, barely louder than a whisper. Greg looked at him with sympathetic but concerned eyes before speaking again.

"You've got to go with SIU, Wordy." It was only now that he noticed a man in a suit standing just behind Greg. He looked annoyed as Greg tried to coax Wordy back to reality. Greg glanced behind him and gave the SIU agent a firm look. "You okay, Wordy?" He whispered as he moved his face a bit closer.

"We've got to get going. I've already broken regulation and allowed you to talk to him Sargent," The SIU agent said bitterly. Greg was not supposed to be speaking with Wordy, he was the subject officer right now and he needed to be questioned.

"I know Brian, thank you but-" Frustration was evident in Greg's voice as the agent cut him off.

"No. Now." He said firmly as he stepped up and nudged Greg out of the way. "SIU, Agent Brian Cooper. I need you to surrender your weapons and come with me." He said coldly to Wordy. It took him a moment to realize that he was still holding his gun tightly, his finger still resting on the trigger. He gave a shaky nod before handing the gun to him and following out of the house.

A crowd had gathered at the barriers and Wordy felt like everyone was watching him as he followed behind the SIU agent. He saw Sam standing near the truck and Wordy thought he saw him give a small nod towards his direction. Suddenly, Wordy wanted nothing more than to go be near Sam and Ed and the team, but he dutifully followed the man in front of him. The back door of the car was opened for him as he slid his way into the seat and heard the man close the door behind him. It took a few minutes for the uniformed officers to clear a way through the growing crowd for the car to leave the scene. Wordy felt, more than he saw, the flashes of cameras and the glares of people. On calls he always tried to block out the bystanders and the media but he was acutely aware of them as they drove slowly through the crowd.

The agent driving didn't make any move to speak to Wordy, and he was okay with it. He didn't want to dabble in useless small talk, there was no point in the convention. He was numb. His mind was on images and not thoughts, not words. He saw that little girls eyes wherever he looked and he couldn't escape her gaze. He took a breath to steady himself and cleared his throat as they pulled up a tall building. He was led directly to an empty interrogation room and was suddenly aware of how cold he was. It was the winter and he was sure that the building's heat was going but there was an unescapable chill rising in his body. After a few minutes of sitting alone at the metal table, a small man came into the room with boxes, a camera, and a clipboard. He didn't look up from the clipboard as he spoke to Wordy.

"I'm with the lab. I need to process your clothes and take pictures for evidence." Wordy nodded and waited for instructions. "Stand over here." The man pointed to an area of wall painted a dull white color. Wordy got up and followed the direction as he took another deep breath to steady himself. After a few photos the man put the camera down.

"Boots." He demanded. Wordy nodded again and knelt to untie his boots. His fingers shook slightly as he grasped the small laces. He stepped out of them and felt the hard floor through his socks as he gave the boots to the man. More photos and then the next demand broke the awkward silence.

"Vest." Wordy nodded and started to unstrap his vest, his fingers still cold and numb. He felt like every layer he stripped from his body he was growing closer to a breakdown. He took another breath as he handed the vest to the man and watched him take his pictures. _Easy, Wordy._ He said to himself as he felt his breath hitch in his throat for a moment.

"Shirt." Wordy looked at him for a moment before peeling off his shirt and exposing his skin to the cool air. He handed it to the man, anger mounting slightly as he tried to regulate his breathing.

"Pants." He said as he wrote something on the clipboard.

"Seriously?" Wordy asked, an edge of frustration in his voice. The man looked at him with an unflinching expression. Wordy undid the button of his cool pants and slid them down his legs, stepping out of the left and the right foot. He stood against the wall in his boxer shorts and he felt his chest aching as he held his breath to avoid an explosion. He wasn't sure what was trying to escape, anger or sadness or something else all together, but he knew he couldn't contain it much longer. The man piled all his evidence into a box and took out a few folded articles of clothing, leaving them on the table. Wordy saw his white t-shirt and his jeans and realized that someone must have grabbed them from his locker.

"Someone will be in soon for the interview. You can get dressed." Wordy nodded, not trusting himself to speak, as the man left the room. As the door closed he let out the breath he had been holding. He felt dizzy as he regained his breath and quickly pulled his clothes on. They felt hard against his skin as he sat down in the chair again and picked at his finger nails, needing something to do, something to keep his mind off things.

He didn't know how long he'd been in the room when the door flew open and a man with some files walked into the room. He sat down laid his folders out on the table and set up a tape recorder before addressing Wordy.

"Standard procedure." He said simply as Wordy nodded.

"Ryan Shanri, SIU. How you doing constable?" He asked without smiling. Wordy nodded and took a breath.

"Uhh...you know." Wordy said, trying to be honest. He knew that interactions with SIU usually were not pleasant and he didn't want to show weakness, he couldn't afford to look like he was questioning his decisions.

"Well, I see you're not here too often." Shanri said as he glanced at Wordy's personnel files. "Looks like you've only been questioned as a witness..." He continued to read the files as Wordy tried to keep his breathing even. "Have you ever taken lethal action before today, Constable Wordsworth?" He asked with a bit of a cool undertone.

"Um, no. I've never needed to..." Wordy answered softly. Shanri nodded and opened another folder.

"I've got the transcripts and details from the call today," He said as he leaned back in the chair and looked over the files. "Let's walk through it." He said as he leaned in closer to the table and pulled a pen and notebook out of his pocket. Wordy nodded and started going through the call. Wordy started mechanically going through the details of the case and was explaining how he and Jules were trying to get eyes when the door to the room opened and a larger man walked in. Wordy vaguely recognized him but wasn't sure from where. He pulled up a chair and extended his arm towards Wordy.

"Frank McAndrew," Wordy shook his hand and looked at him questioningly. "I'm your lawyer." He explained. "Ed called me, told me that he needed me to stop in and help you out." Wordy nodded, his brain now connecting the face with the purpose. The lawyer looked up and pulled a chair over form the corner of the room. "Shanri, did you get my client to sign over his soul yet?" He said with a small smile.

"Nice to see you again Frank." Shanri said with a forced smile. "Where were we?" He looked towards Wordy and he continued to go through the call until Shanri interrupted him. "Subject: 'I should have done this a long time ago.' Constable Kevin Wordsworth fires fatal shot to subject." He read from the transcript before looking up at Wordy.

"Ah, that's how it went." He said, unsure about what to say.

"Yep, that's how it went." Shanri mirrored. "That's how a twelve year old girl abuse victim died today." He said harshly.

"You're tone, Shanri," Wordy's lawyer sat up and looked harshly at the officer. "could be a little less accusatory. My client understands his actions but he was forced to fire when threat was shown to the hostage." The officer nodded but wasn't finished.

"If there was threat to the hostage than why didn't the Sargent call Scorpio?" He asked softly. Wordy felt the breath caught in his throat for a moment as he thought about the call. He hadn't had Scorpio, he wasn't cleared to take the shot but he judged the imminent threat, he couldn't wait for the command.

"Constable?" His lawyer was looking at him with a bit of concern as he saw Wordy going around in his head.

"S...sorry. What was the question?" Wordy asked as he shook his head to clear his mind.

"Why did you shoot if you didn't have the clearance?" Shanri said slowly, enunciating his words. Wordy took a breath before forming answer.

"Sarge wasn't in the room, we were trying to negotiate but were having trouble breaking through. I thought that the subject showed the intention to harm the hostage and I did what I had to to protect the hostage." Wordy said mechanically, trying not to let the emotion through. Wordy didn't realize how much time had passed as he glanced down at his watch.

"Listen, just give him the wheel and we can wrap this up." His lawyer said as Shanri pulled a laminated sheet of paper out of the folder and placed it in front of Wordy. He looked at it and saw a progressive series of verbal and nonverbal cues. He glanced at his lawyer before pointing to a section that read 'shows imminent physical harm to hostage through verbal and/or nonverbal actions.'

"Okay," Shanri said as he pushed some papers into a folder. "I think I've got what I need, we'll contact you if any more questions arise." He said as Wordy's lawyer stood and shook his hand. Wordy did the same and turned to his lawyer as the detective left.

"If you need anything else, give me a call." He said as he handed Wordy a business card.

"Thanks." Wordy mumbled as he stood in the room, not sure of what to do next.

"I'll give you a ride back the station, no use getting a cab." Frank said as he walked out of the room.

"Ah, yeah, thanks." Wordy said as he followed, his mind racing.

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><p><em>I just can't get my chapters to be a uniform length this story. I actually had more outlined to go on in this but I'm going to split it up. Tell me what you think please. More might come tonight, not sure though. <em>


	6. Chapter 6

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 6

_So chapter 5 isn't uploading at this point. I don't know why and I sent out an e-mail to fanfiction support but I'm going to continue on with this. I realize I'm being really really cruel to Wordy; I promise, I'll return him in fair working condition when I finish putting him through the ringer. This chapter might be short (but I'm kind of bad at guessing) because I intended for it to be a part of the previous chapter. I can't get the lengths of these chapters to be balanced, there's a long one, and a short one, and then another long one...I'm working on it. Tell me what you think, yell at me for being so mean to Wordy, whatever you want, just let me know that you're reading this. I don't own Flashpoint._

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><p>The halls of the SRU looked deserted as he walked through the dark corridors. It was late, a lot later than he thought it was when he was sitting in the SIU interrogation. He had seen the time on his watch but somehow he hadn't made the connection to it actually being hours after their shift had ended. He waved to Kira as he walked past the communication's desk and kept walking as she looked like she was about to say something. He kept his head down, part of him feeling badly for ignoring her but most of him just wanting to hide. He passed the briefing room and took a double take as he saw Greg slumped in his chair, his eyes closed. <em>Can't believe he's still here.<em> Wordy thought as he started to tip-toe past the glass paneled room. He had made it most of the way past the room as Greg stirred and opened his eyes.

"Wordy!" Greg called loudly as he got up from the chair and followed Wordy down the hallway. He pretended not to hear, he'd kept his head down and kept walking but Greg was a man on a mission. "Wordy, wait up buddy." Greg said as Wordy was finally forced to stop and face him. The lines in his face seemed deeper, more defined as his mouth unconsciously forced itself into a contorted smile.

"Hey Sarge, what's up?" Wordy asked, trying to keep his voice calm and emotionless. He had the overwhelming desire to run away, to turn on his heels and get away. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to think, he wanted to escape. Greg shrugged.

"Wanted to see how you were doing..." He said softly as he placed a gentle hand on Wordy's forearm and led him to the briefing room. Wordy sat down stiffly but tried to relax his muscles as Greg sat next to him. He shrugged as he spoke.

"I'm fine, Sarge." He said simply as he again shrugged. After trying and failing to maintain eyes contact with Greg, his gaze settled on his hands. Greg nodded but didn't seem particularly convinced.

"How was SIU?" He asked in a conversational tone. Wordy shrugged again.

"You know..." He said quietly. He didn't want to relive the details of the investigations, the doubts circling in his mind.

"So, it was terrible?" Greg said with a smile, trying to draw Wordy out. He smiled also and raised his gaze long enough to nod in consensus. "Don't let them get to you, Wordy." Greg said firmly. "As much as it hurts, it was justified." Wordy gave no reaction to Greg's words, he kept his eyes averted as he let the silence continue for a few minutes. He was off in his mind and Greg must have seen him zoning out because he leaned forward and began to speak again. "You with me, Wordy?"

"Yeah...yeah, Sarge. I'm just really tired. It's been a long day..." Wordy trailed off glancing desperately at Greg.

"I hear you." Greg said with a slight grimace. "I just want to know that you're okay." Greg said sincerely as Wordy returned his focus to his fingers.

"I think I'm going to shower and head home if that's okay, boss." He said quietly. Though he hadn't intended for it to be a question, he found himself waiting for Greg to say something to affirm his thoughts. It was a long moment before Greg let out a long breath and nodded.

"Hug your girls, get some sleep." Greg said nodding. "Maybe you should take a little time off; spend some time at home, clear your head a little-"

"I'm good boss." Wordy said simply as he made a move to get up from the table. "Thanks for the offer though, I appreciate it." Greg also stood and took a step towards Wordy as he made a move to walk away.

"Wordy, talk to me here, really talk to me. Are you okay?" Greg spoke sincerely, his eyes finally meeting Wordy's. His usually bright eyes looked tired, sunken into their sockets and darker than usual. He broke the slight moment of eye contact as he shut his eyes and took a breath.

"I just need..." He shook his head as he gently put his head back and spoke. "I just want to shower and get home." He said quietly. Heavy undertones of emotion were becoming evident in his voice and Greg sensed he'd been holding it in all day. He also sensed that Wordy didn't want to let go of that emotion in front of him right now, so despite his intuitions that there was something bothering him, Greg backed off.

"Get some sleep, Wordy. Call me if you need anything." Greg said in a tone of closure. Wordy nodded as he turned and left the room, calling behind him.

"See you tomorrow, boss." Greg was left standing in the briefing room nodding, a look of masked worry on his face.

Wordy took large strides towards the locker room and, as soon as the door shut behind him, he made a beeline for the small bathroom off behind the lockers. It was mid-shift and he knew that no one would be coming into the locker room at this hour of the night; maybe it was that freedom of finally being alone that made everything feel magnified. The tightness in his chest intensified as he felt the unmistakable acidic tang of bile rising up in his throat. He knelt next to the toilet and gaged as his body shook. After a few minutes, he collapsed against the wall and took a deep breaths, his muscles and chest aching from the tension he had been containing all day.

_Gotta get up now, come on. Gotta shower and get home, come on now. _He said to himself over and over again, not completely convinced of what he really wanted, not sure of what he wanted, but he slowly got his shaking hands onto the floor and pushed himself up. He leaned against the sink and turned on the cold water. He thought be felt nausea come on again but he breathed through it and splashed the cold water on his face. He let the drops of water run down his forehead and his neck, a drop hanging precariously from his nose for a minutes before he leaned over the sink again. He cupped his hands and gathered some water before bringing it to his mouth and rinsing out the bitter after taste of vomit. He took a few more sips and continued to spit out the mucus, carefully avoiding looking in the mirror. He abruptly left the bathroom and walked over to the showers.

Only the emergency lights were on in the locker room and the shower and Wordy didn't bother to turn on the main ones. The darkness and the shadows were almost comforting as he slipped off his clothes and wrapped a towel around himself. He went to the last shower on the end of the row and turned the stream on high power and hot. He shut his eyes against the burning water that made his skin feel as if it was lit on fire and he took some deep breaths as the water hit his chest. After a few minutes he threw his head under the stream and felt the water burn the back of his neck. His body begged to be moved from the stream but he kept himself in place.

He felt dirty. He needed to be cleaned of this...of this blood, and this was as good a way as any. The scolding water was leaving his skin a bright red as he took a course sponge and soap and began to scrub his body. He started with his chest, hoping the hot water would relieve some of the again mounting tension. He began by rubbing small circles around his chest and abdomen but it turned into a hard scrub as he felt his arms aching with the pressure and his chest burning form the abuse.

He thought that he felt tears welling up in his eyes. His sinuses were beginning to clear as his felt his breath hitch in his throat. He threw his face directly into the stream of water and cringed at the hot water. Despite the overwhelming desire to back out of the stream, he forced himself to remain in place. _I am not doing this. I am not thinking about this. Not here._ He repeated the mantra to himself, _Not here. Not here. Not here, _but in the back of his mind a small voice began to surface. _Then where?_

His attention and focus was beginning to slip as he felt a tear run down his face despite his tightly shut eyes. "No..." He half growled, half begged. He shook his head and turned off the water, the room suddenly silent as the loud thudding of water ceased. Wordy heard the echo of the room but he was more aware of the pounding of the blood in his ears as he again held his breath. He wrapped the towel around himself again and walked carefully to his locker. The silence was comforting at first but it felt oppressive now as he stood in front of his locker and tried to enter the combination with shaky hands.

"Come on...come on." He mumbled under his breath as he fiddled with the lock. He finally got it to click open. He rolled his shoulder and tried to release a bit of the tension in his neck as he swung open his locker in the darkened room. One of his boots fell out of his locker as it opened and he bent and set them in front of the bench as he found a small piece of paper at the bottom of his locker. He retrieved it and unfolded it to find the messy scrawl of Ed's handwriting.

"Wordy- Hope you don't mind that I called Frank. Good guy to have backing you up. Call me if you want to talk about anything, Ed." Wordy squeezed the note tightly in his hands and crumpled the small paper, letting it fall to the ground. He took a few breaths to calm himself again as he pulled on his clothes and his boots. He grabbed his bag from the hook in the locker and froze.

He looked at the top shelf of his locker and saw two small dolls and a box of crayons innocently looking at him. He raised his hand slowly to touch them but pulled it away inches from the fabric, his hand now in a fist. _What did I do? _He said to himself, then yelled aloud at himself.

"What did I do?" Both of his hands were now curled into tight fists as his blood coursed through his veins, boiling with anger and regret. He grabbed the door of the locker and squeezed it tightly before slamming it closed and delivering a solid punch to the cold metal door. He pulled his fist away, blood coming to his knuckles as he briefly saw the dent he had made. He turned quickly form the room, barely remembering to grab his bag, as he stormed out of the SRU.

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><p><em>Okay, I need to take a little break from this to do some homework. I tried not to leave this too cliffhangery, don't know when I'll be getting to it again though. Thank you if you've reviewed, I really appreciate it. If you haven't reviewed, I'd really love to hear from you. Also, give me some suggestions, I've got an idea of where I want this to go but I'm open for some additional plot idea. Thanks!<em>


	7. Chapter 7

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 7

_I know that this has taken...oh, that long, huh...well I know it's been a really long time since I updated this, please don't Scorpio me! I've been overloaded with work, literally don't think I've slept more than a few hours the past two weeks. The semester is winding down and things are going nuts. I'm on my way home for Easter break, four trains for four days, and I've got about an hour and a half on this train so I figured that I'd try and pound something out to let you guys know I'm still alive. Thanks for sticking with this! Please review and remember that I don't own Flashpoint._

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><p>Things didn't feel real. He sat in his minivan in the driveway outside his house with the engine off, his hands on the steering wheel, trying to figure out why he wasn't getting out of his car. He felt frozen as he heard the wind cascading over the windshield and hitting the metal frame of the car. Oddly enough, he didn't feel cold. It was below zero outside and the heat had long stopped coming from the vents of the car but he wasn't cold. He was shaking, his body seeming to shiver without his conscious knowledge of it, but he didn't think that it was from the chill in the air. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind of the racing thoughts that had plagued him all afternoon as he looked out into the darkness of the night. He heard the chimes on his front porch swinging in the wind and he took another breath to steady himself, focusing only on the metallic clang of the pipes hitting each other.<p>

He felt his nerves steady a bit as he leaned over into the passenger seat of the car and retrieved his gun from his bag. He had considered leaving it in his locker in the station but something had compelled him to bring it home. He knew that he wouldn't be taking it inside, he and Shelly both hated the idea of having a gun in the house with their daughters there. He had a gun safe but nothing had been stored in it since Claire had started crawling around on her own. He opened his glove compartment and took the cartridge out of the gun before placing both safely in the box. He locked the glove compartment, his body shivering again, and grabbed his bag. He opened the door with numb fingers and stepped out of the car before he lost his nerve again.

He tried to close the door gently, he knew that he wouldn't wake anyone by slamming the door but he didn't want to take the risk tonight. The wind bit at his face as he flipped his collar up and tried to brace himself against the wind. He walked quickly towards the front door and extended his arm, key in hand, towards the lock. He turned his key and felt the lock click open, but his hands lingered on the knob. The cold metal felt alien to his hand as his fingertips tingled. He stayed frozen, one hand holding the door knob, until another gust of wind violently blew towards him and partially opened the door. He took another deep breath before pushing the door the rest of the way open and stepping over the frame. He felt the warmth of the home hit him full force; he took a step backwards and nearly stepped back outside before planting his feet and closing the door. He locked it behind him and stood silently in the hall as he felt his face and body come back to life.

The heat hit his exposed skin and he felt the tight muscles of his face relax slightly. He leaned against the wall and took another breath as he looked around the darkened hallway. He knew that Shelly had probably left him something for dinner but he wasn't hungry. He went up the stairs quietly, feeling more and more out of place each step that he took. He stood at the top of the stairs and looked at the two white doors in front of him. He stepped towards the one to his left and raised his hand to the carved wooden letters hung on the door. He traced the "L" painted a bright green color and then the "A" painted with a dull purple. He smiled for an instant as he remembered carving the letters in the garage and helping the older girls paint the ones for their younger sister. The smile didn't stay on his face for long as he dropped his arm and lingered over the doorknob.

He suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to go in Lilly and Allie's room, to hug them and hold them but he didn't turn the doorknob. Allie had barley been sleeping through the night, two year olds rarely do, and if she was sleeping now than he want to be the reason she woke up. They were both light sleepers and even opening the door was tempting fate. He exhaled as he let his arm drop all the way down to his side. He shifted his bag as he walked the few steps towards Claire's room. He looked at the "C" on the door and adjusted it slightly so it didn't hang crooked. He put his hand on the doorknob and opened it slowly.

His gaze fell upon the bed and the small girl laying in it, her back to him. He thought that his heart stopped beating, his breath hitched in his throat as his muscles tensed and then seemed to stop working. He dropped his bag onto the wood floor and saw her stir under her blankets. He was frozen, still not breathing, feeling dizzy and shaky on his firmly planted feet.

"Daddy...?" Claire mumbled sleepily as she turned towards him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he was looking at Claire, his six year old daughter, but in that moment he only saw the piercing green eyes and blond hair staring at him; he only saw Emily. "Daddy, what are you doing?" She asked innocently, still groggy.

"I...I'm sorry..." He felt himself choking on the words. He still wasn't sure if his heart was beating as he felt his head spinning. "I'm sorry..." The words were barley whispered as he unconsciously took a step backwards. He didn't realize that a door had opened down the hall and he didn't hear Shelly coming towards him, his focus was on Claire only.

"Kevin?" She asked quietly as she took his hand and pulled away quickly when she saw the dried blood on his knuckles. "Kevin, what's wrong?" She asked a bit more sternly.

"Mommy?" Claire asked, her eyes fluttering open and closed, near sleep again.

"Go back to sleep sweetie." She said softly as Claire nodded, too tired to understand any of what was going on. Shelly stepped in Wordy's line of sight and closed the door, breaking the seeming trance he was in. He felt himself gasp for breath as he looked around, confused as to why Shelly was trying to drag him down the hallway. He followed her without thinking as she held his wrist tightly and took him straight to the small bathroom attached to their room. She turned on the light and they both squinted their eyes as it blinded them momentarily. Shelly helped Wordy off with his coat, she was talking to him, asking what was happening but he wasn't really listening until she came directly in front of him and stood on her toes to get closer to making eye contact.

"Kevin." She said firmly, grabbing his attention. His eye followed her as she went back down to her normal height. "Are you okay?" She asked seriously again, unblinking. He swallowed hard, his dry throat aching, his hand suddenly hurting for the first time that night. He tried to speak but he felt tears rising up in him and he didn't want to let them flow now. After a long pause, he nodded. Shelly didn't seem convinced but she pulled him into the bathroom and turned the faucet on the sink to the cool water.

Wordy let her clean his knuckles, only now realizing what a number he'd done on the shredded skin. He vaguely wondered how he would explain the wounds in the morning but he didn't dwell on the thought too long. The thought of a new day only made him hopeless; he wondered how long this pain would go on but he only felt more disheartened by the conclusions he was coming to. Shelly painstakingly cleaned his wounds but was gentle as she rubbed the tender skin. She whispered soothing assurances in the quiet of the house and though he wasn't really listening, he felt his body relax slightly in her presence.

For a moment, one wonderful instant, his mind was free from the doubts and pain that had been present all afternoon. That peace was short lived though as Wordy took in his new situation. His work life was one thing, he was depended upon and trusted, sure; but his home life was another story all together. At home he was the hero, he was flawless and he was the knight in shining armor that rode in on his white horse and saved the people in distress. When he explained his job to his kids he told them that helped people, he saved people who were having a bad day, or he stopped a someone from doing something bad...today though, he was the bad guy; he was the killer.

"Kevin?" Shelly had moved closer to him and looked at him worriedly. He looked away, not wanting to see those eyes: those eyes that had always been watching him, seeing him for what he was, those eyes that knew when something was wrong, those eyes that he had loved and cherished ever since they had met. Those eyes felt accusatory tonight and he couldn't face them. "Kevin, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Shell." He said in an even tone. He didn't want to tell her, he couldn't tell her. His reality was shattered and he wouldn't let that happen to Shelly. She'd been though enough pain to last a lifetime and she didn't need to know that her husband had killed a twelve year old today. She tried to find his eyes again but he kept evading her gaze.

"I've never seen you like this, Kevin..."

"It's just been a really long day." He hoped that it would be enough of an explanation but he knew that he wouldn't get off that easily.

"You've had long days before but...but I'm worried..." She said honestly. He knew that she was alluding to Lew but he quickly shoved the memory from his mind, he couldn't add that to his thoughts tonight.

"Listen Shell," He said a little more firmly than he'd intended. He instantly regretted his tone and softened his voice. "I really don't want to talk about it." She nodded and finished wrapping his hand with gauze before moving closer and leaning on him. He knew that she wanted him to hug her but he felt the irrational fear again that he would leave the blood on her. He backed up a bit and she looked at him with concern.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" She asked again softly.

"Go back to sleep, I'm sorry I woke you." He said, the conversation obviously ended. She nodded and walked back towards him. She stood on her toes again and kissed his check.

"I love you, Kevin." She said sincerely as she huddled back under her blankets.

"Love you too, Shell." He whispered as he turned off the lights and let the room fall into darkness.

He changed quietly in front of his dresser and though his body was exhausted he knew that sleep would not come easily. He started out laying on his back under the blankets but every thirty minutes it seemed, he would turn over. First he turned to his left, then his right, then he tried to get comfortable on his stomach, only to end up on his back again, staring at the ceiling. He'd tried just closing his eyes and resting but every time his eyelids shut he saw her eyes staring back at him. He watched the minutes turn to hours as the sun eventually shone into his window. His alarm clock went off at it's normal time but it was unnecessary, he was wide awake and feeling worse than ever.

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><p><em>Not the greatest end to this chapter. I'm not really liking this one but I really just needed to write something and get myself back on track and in the right mindset. Tell me what you think please. Don't expect an update until early to mid May, I've got one more week of class and then a week of finals. <em>


	8. Chapter 8

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 8

_Hello! I'm still here and I've been itching to write but I just finished all my finals...almost. One more to go then I'm home for the summer but I should have a lot of free time this weekend so I'm hoping to get a couple of chapters up. Thanks for sticking with this story and for putting up with me and my random schedule. I hope you're enjoying this and that it's worth it. I'm going to try and finish this one up this week. I had an idea I wanted to get out before the continuation of "Fault Lines" comes on but we'll see how that goes. Thanks again, please review me and remember that I don't own Flashpoint!_

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><p>"I can't believe that he got a hat trick in the last seconds of the period, what a game." Sam had a glimmer in his eye as he recounted the hockey game form the night before and laced his boots in the locker room.<p>

"Yeah the hat trick was great and all, but the defense was terrible; it's a wonder that we kept them to two." Spike added as he riffled through his locker. They continued to recount the details and the statistics, Ed adding his input from time to time but mostly watching Wordy. He'd barley said a sentence since he'd walked into the locker room and he hadn't really looked at anyone. Ed watched carefully as Wordy yawned and tried to get his feet into his boots.

"You look like hell, Wordy." Ed said jokingly as he pointed to the left boot he was trying to squeeze his right foot into. Wordy seemed to break out of a trance as he looked at his feet and smiled slightly.

"God," He said as he switched his boots and started lacing one up. "yeah I'm just tired." He said without looking up. Spike and Sam had grown a bit quieter as they turned their attention to their friend.

"Everyone has those days." Sam said in an attempt to break the silence that had fallen upon them. Ed turned slightly and looked at Spike and Sam. Though he didn't speak the message on his face was unmistakable.

"We'll see you guys out there." Spike said as he and Sam left the locker room obediently. Ed turned back to his locker for a moment to grab the last of his gear as Wordy kept his head down tying his boots. The silence was thick between them as Ed closed his locker and turned towards Wordy.

"So, what's really going on?" Ed said knowingly as he sat on the bench across from Wordy. Though he hadn't raised his gaze yet, Ed saw his muscles grow tense. After a pause, Wordy sat up and spoke.

"Like I said, I'm just tired." He shrugged as he wiped his face of any emotion and kept his voice calm. Ed nodded though he was obviously not going to let the topic drop.

"I can see that." He said with a nod. "I can also see the fist sized dent in your locker and the gauze on your hand." Ed was trying to sound sympathetic but the tone wasn't completely coming across. Wordy gave him a look that he hoped would be an answer enough but Ed wasn't buying it.

"You know how that lock is. It was stuck last night and I was frustrated, guess I forgot my own strength." Wordy gave him another small smile as he went to strap on his vest but Ed saw through it. He knew that the smile he was seeing was not Wordy's smile and that just behind his tough facade his mind was tearing him apart.

"All the equipment we've got in this place, all the lock-picks you've done and you decide that punching your locker is the better option?" Ed tried to keep the tone conversational but he saw Wordy growing more desperate to leave the room.

"It was late, I was tired, I was frustrated and I punched my locker. You done interrogating me now?" Wordy said a bit harshly as he got up quickly and strode out of the locker room and directly to the briefing room.

Greg was talking to Jules at the head of the table and Sam and Spike sat across from each other talking animatedly about their predictions for the next hockey game. Wordy sat down next to Spike, giving both the men a nod. He leaned in to try and appear to be part of the conversation; he nodded when appropriate but didn't say anything. When Greg finished with Jules, Ed had pulled him aside and had whispered something to him. Wordy knew that they were talking about him, looking at him, but he kept his attention on Spike and Sam, not allowing himself a glance in their direction.

"Alright guys," Greg called for attention as Ed took his seat and Greg took his place at the head of the table. Greg didn't appear to be phased by whatever Ed had told him as he smiled at everyone and started their morning briefing. " We've got a ten hour shift today along with Team Three. If there's a call they'll be taking it and we'll hold down the fort incase anything comes up." Greg saw the confusion evident around the table, Team One had the highest success rates with hot calls and if they were on duty they were usually the ones to go out in the field, but no one questioned. Greg's tone changed slightly as he let his muscles relax and his voice soften.

"I know I said this yesterday but I'm going to say it again," He paused and seemed to be waiting for everyone's eye contact before he spoke. "Yesterday was a really tough call for all of us, it's going to take us a few days to get back in stride but if any of you want to talk about anything, I'm here." He paused again before meeting each of their eyes for a moment. "Anytime, about anything, you guys know you can call me." Everyone nodded in understanding as Greg stood up a bit straighter and he changed his tone to the more conversational briefing voice. "Alright, gun range this morning, workouts this afternoon, then we'll do some bomb stuff." Before Greg even finished his sentence Spike was out of his seat with a huge smile on his face.

"You guys are going to love it, I gave Babycakes a tune-up and wait until you see her water cannon-"

"Easy does it Spike," Ed said jokingly. "You can brag about your girlfriend later, right now we're at the gun range, let's move." Ed rose from the table and everyone followed suit. Wordy walked quickly, trying to be the first one out of the room but Greg had anticipating his move and was standing in the doorframe as Wordy approached.

"Got a minute, Wordy?" He asked with a warm smile. Wordy looked at him for a moment before sighing and nodding. They both stepped out of the doorway and let everyone else leave the room before Greg walked back to the table and sat down, motioning Wordy to do the same. His muscles were stiff as he pulled up a chair and tried to smile. Greg looked him over carefully before settling his gaze on Wordy's eyes. "How you doing, Wordy?"

"I'm fine, Sarge...a little tired, but I'm fine." He said confidently. Greg nodded.

"Relax, Wordy." He smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "You look really tense." Wordy took a breath and tried to force himself to relax but he was growing frustrated again.

"What did you need me for, Sarge?" He asked a little shortly as he tried to harden his features. Greg took a breath and looked at him closely again.

"Two things. First, I need your signature here for the file." Greg pulled a file towards them and flipped through it to find the right page. Wordy saw the address on the front of the folder and recognized it as the call file from yesterday. Greg found the page and pointed to a line as he handed Wordy a pen. He scrawled his name quickly and nodded as he went to get up form the chair.

"One more thing, Wordy." Greg said as he saw Wordy slump back into the chair. He paused a moment before speaking, seemingly thinking hard about something. "I just wanted to let you know that the offer to take some time off is still on the table-"

"I'm fine, Sarge."

"So you've said," Greg said softly. "but just know that its there and think about it." Wordy nodded in understanding and waited impatiently for Greg to add anything else. He didn't know why he was so anxious around Ed and Greg, two of his best friends and colleagues, but he felt his fingers curling into fists and his chest tighten as the silence continued.

"You can go meet up with the others, I've got one more file to finish up and then I'll join you guys." Greg saw Wordy relax a bit as he stood and headed to the door. Though Greg immediately regretted not keeping Wordy in the room and getting him to talk, he knew that it would have been futile. _Hopefully he'll come around sooner rather than later._

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><p><em>I know this chapter wasn't great and didn't move things along too much, the next one will but I needed to get writing and get back into the swing of things. I know this one is kinda badly written so I'm not going to beg for reviews but I'd still appreciate them. I'm writing in between packing...or maybe I'm packing in between writing...well I'm moving out of the dorms next week so chapters might come up at odd times but they will be up more consistently than the past month. Thanks!<em>


	9. Chapter 9

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 9

_Okay, let's see if I can get back into the swing of things and get my writing to be coherent and just generally better than the last two chapters have been. The idea for this chapter came to me when I was reading "Swim 'Til You Drown" by Illyria13, it's rated M so you might have to search it out but it's amazing. I feel like the idea hasn't really come together in my head yet of what I want to do but I guess the best way to figure it out is to just go for it, so here we go. Still don't own Flashpoint, let me know what you think._

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><p>He was in his zone and though he didn't want to be stuck in his head at this moment, it was better than having to interact with people. Since the moment he'd pulled up to the station anxiety and frustration had been mounting and he was glad to have the catharsis of afternoon workouts to try and sweat out some of the tension. Despite his scraped hand, he went immediately for the punching bag when they left the locker room.<p>

"Guess you beat me to the punch, Wordy." Spike joked as he jumped onto a treadmill. Everyone laughed but Wordy didn't lift his eyes from the white tape roll he was using to wrap his hands. There was low music playing from a radio somewhere in the gym but the sounds of the treadmills, the weights, and the heavy breathing drowned it out.

Wordy took a few soft jabs at the bag to test its weight and his hands before speeding up and getting into a rhythm. A few quick jabs with his right hand sent a stream of stinging from his knuckles up into his wrist but he forgot about it as he moved onto his left hand and then different combinations. He felt his breathing get into a rhythm with his punches. He hoped that he would feel the weight that had seemingly been crushing his lungs all day, lift and disappear into the workout as tension usually would, but his mind wouldn't let it go.

He punched the bag hard with his right hand and had to pause to let it swing back to him before continuing. _Come on, Wordy, get it out here that way you won't blow up on Ed and Greg._ He was angered even more as he thought about the aggressive tone he had taken with his friends earlier in the day. _You can't take this out on them, they're just trying to help._ He shuffled around the bag and moved into a complicated combination of punches and kicks.

_They just don't get it, they don't get what's going on in my head._ Wordy thought as anger again flooded his mind for a moment. He attacked the bag with more energy and harder punches, the worn leather biting against his taped hands. He paused for a moment and wiped the sweat from his brow as he closed his eyes, immediately regretting it.

When his eyes closed, her's eyes were there again. Her bloodied body, her pained, pleading expression still stuck on her face as he saw her staring at him. He opened his eyes quickly and felt his breathing pick up but he couldn't get the image from his view. He shook his head out in an attempt to dispel the image seemingly engraved on his pupils but to no avail.

Tears came to his eyes as he began rapidly punching the dull red bag. He saw her eyes staring at him from the firm leather The screw in the ceiling creaked with the increase pressure but he didn't hear it. The pounding of the blood in his ears drowned out the sounds from around him. He put his full weight behind the blows and let out small cries as he made contact with the bag. _Make this stop..._ He pleaded with his mind and the image before him. He didn't hear the treadmills stop and the questions directed towards him as he continued to go at the punching bag with all of the energy and force he had in him.

"Wordy...?" Ed had put his weights down and approached the bag but Wordy hadn't looked up. Ed motioned for Sam and Spike, who were both approaching him, to stay a little further back. "Wordy...talk to me buddy..." Ed took another step forward after getting no response from Wordy. He took another glance at Sam and Spike before raising his arm and gently placing it on Wordy's right shoulder.

There was no thought, no transition from his inner turmoil to reality as Ed's hand rested on Wordy's shoulder. He couldn't stop himself from turning towards the new, unexpected encroachment and continuing his flurry of punches. Part of it was anger, towards Ed, towards Greg, towards Emily, towards the world really; but most of it was a culmination of all his emotions, pent up and begging to be released. Wordy's fist made contact with Ed's jaw and face and sent him sprawling backwards with the force and pain of the unexpected blow. Things happened quickly as Ed fell to the mat and was quickly flanked by Spike trying to assess the damage. Sam sprung up and pushed Wordy back away from Ed, his mind still not completely aware of what was happening in reality. All of them were yelling as Jules and Greg joined the mix, Wordy finally calming down enough to realize what was happening. Ed's voice broke through the confusion as he wiped blood from his mouth and nose.

"I'm fine...I'm fine..." He mumbled as he spit more blood into his shirt sleeve. Spike knelt at his knee and tried to help him up as Wordy realized that Sam was still holding him back. He eased and looked around the room and then at Ed as he felt his chest tighten again.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." He whispered. Everyone looked in his direction as he pushed through Sam's hold and took strong bounds towards the locker room. He tried to block out the sounds from the gym, the voices calling after him, and he was overall successful but there was one voice he could never tone out.

"Eddie, go with Spike and Jules and get cleaned up. Do you think anything's broken?" Greg asked with a calm voice. Wordy couldn't hear Ed's answer as he walked further down the hall and slammed through the door of the locker room. His body was hot with sweat and anger, embarrassment and guilt. He paced up and down the rows of lockers, ripping the tape from his fingers and letting the blood of his newly reopened wounds drop onto the floor. Overwhelmed and mostly unaware that Greg had come into the room, he continued to heatedly walk from one end of the row to the other. Greg stood at the edge of the row but stayed out of Wordy's path, hoping to wait for Wordy to acknowledge him.

Silence reigned for a few minutes as Wordy stayed stuck in his head, now aware of Greg's presence, and Greg stood where he was with a calm expression. Wordy was growing more agitated and his hands flexed in and out of fists as he walked. He suddenly stopped pacing in front of his locker and started to enter his combination with shaking hands.

"Wordy, buddy, can we talk for a minute?" Greg asked softly. Wordy didn't look up from his locker and was growing more frustrated with his combination lock.

"There's nothing to talk about." Wordy mumbled in a low growl. He pulled at his lock to no avail again before kicking his locker.

"Easy Wordy." Greg said soothingly as Wordy turned to face him. Though he looked obviously agitated, he seemed crestfallen looking at his feet.

"Is Ed okay?" He asked meekly. Greg nodded.

"I think he'll be fine, Spike's cleaning him up now." He let Wordy take a breath before speaking again. "It'll help if you talk to someone, Wordy." He said knowingly. Wordy raised his head and looked directly into Greg's eyes for the first time since the prior day.

"Talking won't do shit." He said bitterly. He continued loudly before Greg could interrupt him. "Talking is not going to help the fact that I killed a kid yesterday." Greg looked like he was going to speak again but Wordy continued. "Talking's not going to change anything!" His voice got heavy, his eyes glazed over a bit as he looked over Greg's shoulder. "She was hurt and abused and she needed help...and I killed her. Nothing you say can change that." Wordy stormed out of the locker room despite Greg's calls. He knew that he wasn't doing the right thing but it was the only thing he could do. He heard Greg and Sam coming after him but he didn't look back as he jogged down the stairs and out of the building into the unforgiving winter.

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><p><em>Ugh, I don't like the way this turned out either! It took me so long to get this scene, I feel like I'm not doing anything justice the way I'm writing it. The emotions just don't feel like they're really there. Also, I'm trying to keep things vague-ish, I want people to come to their own conclusions but I'm not sure if I'm doing that too much. Ugh, please review, tell me what you think. Don't know when the next chapter will be up, move out tomorrow morning so it might be a little later this week. Thanks!<em>


	10. Chapter 10

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 10

_I loved the beginning of this story and I loved the idea but now it's not coming together like I hoped. Please tell me what you think, give me hints, tell me what I can do to make this better, you're the one reading it after all. I guess this slump is the result of that month long break I took to do my finals, oh well. Funny thing, I actually wrote the beginning of this chapter first as a one-shot before I started this story but I loved the way it was going and it fit so well with the idea for this story that I saved it. Here we go, I still don't own Flashpoint._

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><p>Light, it played tricks on you. He stood under the streetlight and felt like he was being engulfed and surrounded by the falling snow. He almost felt suffocated with the rate it fell. The tiny particles swirled around him, blowing into his face and eyes, catching on his short cropped hair. He found it almost funny that he hadn't noticed the snow until he stood under the light. He had been walking for...well he didn't really know how long...but in the dark he barely registered that the snow was falling.<em> It only seemed like a flurry.<em> He thought as he stood, frozen under the light. It looked like things were quickly going into blizzard conditions, but he didn't move. He was partially transfixed by the beauty, he was partially paralyzed and unsure of what to do.

His chest was tight as he continued to hold back the tears that had been threatening to break free all afternoon. He held his breath again and felt the constriction deep in his muscles as he willed himself with all his conscious power to stay strong. His body was long past shivering, he was still in his gym clothes and the thin fabric of his t-shirt and sweatpants were not doing much to keep the biting cold from his skin. He had started heading home when he left headquarters. He didn't have his car keys (probably for the better since he was so emotional) and the walk wouldn't have been far but then he realized the time.

3:30 PM. Usually he would jump at the opportunity to be home in the afternoons, to get his daughters off the bus, help them with their homework, help Shelly with dinner, baths and bedtime stories, the perfect afternoon with his family. Everyday he longed for that perfect family bonding time but he knew that today could not be that day. Tears started to run down his face as he thought of his beautiful daughters and his mind confused the image with Emily's bloodied body. He shivered, though not from the cold. The tears were freezing as they ran down his face but he couldn't think of anything else to do but stand in this spot. The thought of standing in this spot, letting the snow collect around him and entombing him became more appealing to him.

Greg wasn't even sure it was him when he drove by the streetlight, he needed to stop, go in reverse, and stare through the blizzard to actually make out the hulking frame of his friend. Wordy made no move as the car stopped and rolled down the window, it barley seemed that he's noticed the new person speaking to him. He looked up to the sky and saw the snowflakes plummeting to earth, hoping to be pummeled into the ground by them.

"Wordy...buddy...you okay?" Greg asked cautiously as he got out of his car and stepped within a few feet of Wordy. He was about halfway in the circle of light, half of him still partially obscured by the darkness. "Wordy, it's snowing buddy, you know that?" Greg took another step forward as Wordy turned to him with a resentful look on his face.

"You don't need to negotiate me." He said coldly before turning his head and looking straight in front of him.

"I know that Wordy, I'm sorry." Greg waited a moment as he moved closer to Wordy, trying to minimize the curtain of snow that seemed to separate them. "Shelly called me, she's really worried about your Wordy. She says that you never came home today, that you're not picking up your cell phone..." Greg waited for a response, some kind of sign to show that Wordy was hearing him, but he saw nothing but pain on his face.

"Wordy, what do you say I give you a ride?" Greg asked, shivering now despite his coat. Wordy didn't move or look at Greg. "Come on buddy, you've got to be a popsicle by now." Greg moved closer and gently placed his hand on Wordy's shoulder. "I've got the heat blasting in the car, let's at least warm up." Greg smiled, trying to make the conversation friendly. Another few minutes without an answer or a move and Greg began to worry even more.

Wordy had left Headquarters at about 3, now it was after 7 PM and if he'd been outside the entire time Greg knew that he had to frozen to the core, not to mention the possibility of hypothermia. Greg moved in front of Wordy and made eye contact, speaking firmly. "Wordy, you've got to get in the car."

He stood for another moment looking carefully at Greg, pain still evident on his face. Just as Greg was about to try again, Wordy moved his stiff limbs and headed towards the passenger side of the car. Greg opened the trunk and pulled out a thick blanket which he gave to Wordy as he sat down in the driver's seat.

"Thank you, Wordy. Let me turn the heat up." Greg reached over and turned the knobs to full power as the heat engulfed the car. Wordy huddled under the blanket and tried to avoid looking at the drivers side. Greg picked up his cell phone and after one ring started to speak. "Yeah Eddie, I've got him. Can you tell the others?" There was a pause as Ed responded. "Alright, I'll be in touch." He hung up the phone and smiled towards Wordy.

"Everyone was out looking for you. All of us were really worried about you, especially Shelly, you want to call her and tell her you're okay?" Greg asked as he held out his cell phone. Wordy looked at him and at the phone before mumbling something under his breath. "What was that Wordy, couldn't hear you?"

"I...I can't." He said simply in a raspy whisper. Greg looked at him critically for a moment before nodding.

"Okay, Wordy, then I'm going to call her if that's okay." Greg said gently. Wordy gave a slight nod and Greg dialed the number. The phone was again picked up after only one ring. "Shelly, it's Greg." He paused as Shelly spoke rapidly into the phone. "Shelly, calm down for me. I've got him right here, he's warming up in my car." Another pause as Wordy felt tears coming to his eyes again. "We're going to go to my place to get warmed up, have a little chat." Wordy froze for a minute but tried not to let his face show the fear that now coursed through his body. "Alright, we'll give you a call later."

Greg hung up the phone and smiled at Wordy. He was now shivering as his body realized how cold he actually was. His teeth chattered as he shivered uncontrollably. Greg took off his coat and wrapped it on top of the blanket before shifting gears and getting onto the slippery roads, driving as fast as he dare in these conditions.

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><p><em>I know it's short, but it's something. More to come soon, tell me what you think!<em>


	11. Chapter 11

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 11

_Thanks for reading this much and reviewing hopefully. I've kind of got an idea where I want this next section to go but depending on how it flows it might be in a few sections. The way I see it outlined, there are three more things that need to happen, those things might be broken up into a few more chapters, I don't know, just my attempts to tell you how much more to expect, but since I failed in that aspect let's just move on...I don't own Flashpoint._

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><p>"I'm going to make some coffee. Are your clothes wet?" Greg unlocked the door to his apartment and turned on lights as Wordy followed behind him, bundled up in the blanket. He nodded that his clothes were wet with snow, drenched actually, as Greg put the pot of coffee on the burner. "Here," Greg handed Wordy a sweatshirt and walked quickly into the other room before returning with a pair of sweatpants and socks. "This stuff should fit you. You can change in there." Greg pointed to a bedroom and Wordy obediently did as he was told.<p>

As he stripped off his wet, cold, clothes Wordy felt a bit of anxiety leave him only to be pounded by new worries. _Can't lie to Greg, he'd know in a second. _He put on the warm clothes and felt the odd sensations on his numb skin. The fuzz on the inside of the sweatshirt tickled his skin and he crossed his arms to try and contain the heat that he hoped was building against his body. The sweatpants similarly comforted his icy limbs, though they were a few inches too short for him. Wordy smelt the coffee brewing and knew that it was time to face whatever would happen. He took a few deep breaths before collecting his damp clothes and opening the door.

"Perfect timing," Greg glanced up from the cup of coffee he'd just poured and handed it to Wordy as he approached. The ceramic cup was warm in Wordy's hands as he took a small sip, careful not to burn his numb skin. "Take a seat on the couch, I've got a couple of blankets over there." Greg took the wet clothes from Wordy and hung them in his small bathroom before coming back into the living room with yet another blanket. "Found another one." Greg smiled as he shook out the blanket and placed it on top of the pile that covered Wordy on the couch.

"Thanks, Sarge." He said softly, almost meekly. They sat quietly for a few minutes and both drank their coffee, warming their hands.

"Were you outside since you left HQ?" Greg asked in what he hoped didn't come across as a judging tone. Wordy hesitated a moment before nodding.

"Wordy, incase you weren't aware, there's this thing called hypothermia..." Greg smiled at him but Wordy's expression hadn't changed. "What's up Wordy?" Greg asked more seriously. "It's like you're a totally different person than you were last week...hell, a totally different person than you were yesterday morning...talk to me..." Wordy kept his eyes downcast, focused on the hot coffee before him and the blankets nearly suffocating him with heat. He tried to subtly wiggle free of the blankets, resenting what they symbolized. Warmth, comfort, care, safety, all things he felt he didn't deserve.

"Wordy, you were in sub-zero temperatures for hours, keep the blankets on." Greg said firmly as Wordy continued to shrug a little looser.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, you've said that a lot the past few days but the more I hear it out of your mouth, the more I doubt it." Greg softened his tone a bit and leaned forward. "This isn't you, Wordy. This isn't you." Wordy took a few deep breaths before pushing the blankets off and, still shivering, getting to his feet.

"Thanks for everything, Sarge but I should-"

"Sit down, Wordy." Greg said firmly as he stood also, blocking his path. Wordy felt his muscles tense and his posture straighten as he automatically associated Greg's tone with a command. "You are not leaving here until we talk." Greg stayed firm until Wordy sat down on the couch again, though he was still obviously tense and anxious.

"Is this about the call yesterday, Wordy?" Greg looked at him and waited for a response but his tense body language was enough of an indicator. "You followed the book and you shouldn't doubt yourself, Wordy. No one doubts you."

"Yeah, well maybe they should doubt me." Greg looked like he was going to interrupt but Wordy continued. "I killed a kid, Greg. I killed a little girl who was scared of her abuser. And then top that all off, I go ahead and sucker punch Ed today, can't even look at my own daughter without...without seeing her eyes... I doubt myself." Frustration and anger was building in Wordy and his muscles were aching between his body's tension and the intense shivering that still persisted.

"Wordy, I know it hurts, and I know it's tough, but you neutralized a subject. That's all you did. We all tried to stop things from going that direction but she showed threat to the hostage-"

"Oh yeah, her abusive father and uncle. Two great guys worth saving, worth killing her over!" He was nearly shouting now as tears began to well in his eyes. He tried to blink them away but Greg had seen them already and had subtly pushed a box of tissues his way. Wordy gave him an angry glare before Greg spoke.

"It's our job to protect the hostages, Wordy, you know that. We are not a judge, we are not a jury, and while sometimes we disagree with what we have to do, we do it anyway. We-"

"We keep the peace, I know that but...but where were we, where was anyone when they were...when they were doing those things to her?" He asked softly as he put his head in his hands for a moment. Greg thought for a moment before responding.

"We were out saving other people Wordy, like we do every single day. You can't second guess yourself here, you can't doubt your actions, and you can't go out there and let yourself freeze to death." Greg had a softer tone, almost fatherly as he leaned closer and waited for Wordy to raise his head.

"I deserve worse than some cold for what I did." He said softly with a flat tone. Greg was a bit taken aback by the sudden statement and quickly shook his head.

"I know you're hurting right now, Wordy-"

"I deserve to hurt right now, and not just in the way you're thinking." Wordy said slightly louder, another shiver racking his body and muscles as Greg internally mused for a moment. _Didn't think I'd ever have to go here with Wordy._ He took a deep breath before speaking in a calm, even tone.

"Wordy, I feel like I've got to ask you this...are you thinking about killing yourself?" Wordy raised his gaze and looked at Greg, his tough exterior finally looking vulnerable as tears came to his eyes again. He took a breath before looking down and wiping his face with the back of his hand. Greg waited a long few minutes trying to look patient and get himself to be patient like he was every day, but this was different and he couldn't contain the questions and anxiousness.

"Wordy, you've got to talk to me here..." Greg didn't want to sound like he was pleading with him but a slight hitch in his voice gave away the desperation hidden in the practiced calm tone.

"I...I don't know." Wordy looked up for an instant before dropping his gaze again and shaking his head. "I just...I don't know."

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><p><em>Slightly cliffhangerish but not as terrible as some of my stories have been. Alright, I'm tired and going to bed but I'd love feedback. Thanks a lot for sticking with me!<em>


	12. Chapter 12

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 12

_So some of my Americanisms showed through last chapter, inches and temperature, I've been trying to catch them but I don't think they were too bad. Tell me what you think. Though I'd gladly take it off someone's hands, I still don't own Flashpoint._

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><p>There was a long moment of silence as Wordy tried and failed to melt into the couch and Greg tried to think of what to say next. There was a loud voice in his head yelling for him to be patient, just like any other day, any other time he wanted someone to talk, but a small nagging whisper was winning out: <em>this is Wordy.<em>

"I'm sorry." Wordy whispered, still only glancing at Greg before his gaze settled elsewhere. Greg looked at Wordy critically for a moment, confusion in his eyes.

"Wordy, you don't have anything to be sorry for." Greg put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward more to try and find Wordy's eyes.

"Yeah," Wordy looked up and briefly met Greg's gaze with a bit of a grimace. "I have a lot to be sorry for but I mean, here we are and you ask me...you ask me that...and I can't think of anything to say other than 'I don't know.' I mean, you deserve an answer better than that." He bit his lip before looking at the ground again.

"It's okay, Wordy. I get it, there's lots of stuff going on in your head right now and I'm glad that we're talking." Greg saw Wordy shaking his head slowly.

"It's not okay...it's not." He said in a firm whisper. He looked up at Greg and took a few deep breaths. "I don't...I don't know what's going on in my head anymore. It feels like...like I don't know who I am." Wordy struggled to find the words as he tried to express the emotions he'd been crushing down and trying to avoid. Greg nodded and thought hard about what Wordy was telling him.

"I hear you Wordy, you're overwhelmed right now and it's unfamiliar," Greg paused and let the word sink in. "but that doesn't mean that's it wrong." Wordy made no sign of agreeing so Greg continued. "And I know who you are. I know that you're a friend, and you're a cop, you're a husband, and you're a father. Your three little girls, you're the world to them and our team wouldn't be complete without you." Greg paused a moment and waited to make sure that Wordy was seeing his sincerity. "You might be questioning yourself right now, but no one else is. You are good at your job, Wordy, and you are a good person." Greg finished confidently and Wordy seemed to be thinking about his words.

"I know...I just, right now it doesn't feel that way. When my girls asked what I did at work, I said that I protected the world from bad guys, that I saved people. I just can't go back and face them knowing that I'm that bad guy." Another silent tear came to Wordy's eye but he tried to blink it away.

"But you're not the bad guy, Wordy. You did your job and you saved the hostage. I know that it sucks sometimes. I know that we all wanted to save Emily over her father, but we did our jobs." Greg was strong yet firm as he spoke but Wordy shook his head.

"So that's my excuse?" He asked bitterly.

"It's not an excuse, Wordy, it's the truth." Wordy leaned back on the couch, still shaking his head but he didn't say anything. Greg let the conversation fall to silence again to regroup and figure out where to go next.

He knew that he had to bring up the question of suicide again but he really didn't want to. Part of him knew that this approach wasn't going to work. Wordy was (ironically) a man of few words. Though he understood and appreciated negotiation, he was a tactical man. He wasn't a talker and Greg knew that talking probably wasn't going to be the thing that got through to him but he wasn't sure what else to do at this point. There was a fine line he was toeing between being Wordy's Sargent and being his friend and Greg knew that any step beyond this conversation would be crossing a line and being met with paperwork, rules, commanding officers, and harsh protocol; he wanted to avoid crossing that line at all costs.

"Wordy, I hate to bring it back to this," Greg paused and waited for Wordy to look at him. "but when you said that you don't know if you're suicidal...I...can you..." Greg looked at him with a bit of desperation, not wanting to finish his sentence. Wordy nodded, understanding the unspoken words. He took a moment to think before running his hand through his short cropped hair.

"The thoughts just, they run through my mind sometimes and I know that they're wrong but they just come back." He took a breath and bit his lip before continuing. "I wouldn't actually do anything, it's kind of just there." He shrugged and looked at Greg to see if he was being clear.

"Okay." Greg nodded.

"But I wouldn't do anything. I mean...like the only thought that was in my head all night was just...kinda hoping that the snow would just bury me...but I didn't think about it before hand." Greg nodded again but Wordy continued. "I wouldn't do anything, Greg, believe me when I say that, please. I understand the repercussions of my actions." Wordy said strongly.

"I trust you, Wordy." Greg said strongly, satisfied by the answer. "Thank you for being honest with me." The conversation lulled into silence again as Greg rose and poured them both some more coffee. Wordy still shivered a bit but the color had returned to his face and he was able to hold his coffee without having to worry about spilling it. After a few minutes of quiet, Wordy put his mug down on the table and looked at Greg with a bit of worry.

"What happens now?" Greg took another sip of coffee and thought hard about the way things could go.

"Well, you're taking time off." Greg said firmly. Wordy nodded reluctantly and kept quiet. "And I want you to talk to Doc Luria," Wordy looked worried but Greg motioned for him to relax. "Stressful incident debrief, Commander Holloran won't know about this conversation tonight, but she will." Greg said with authority. "I want you back Wordy, this isn't punishment, I just want you back to yourself." Wordy seemed deep in thought. "What do you think?" Wordy nodded slightly.

"It sounds good," there was a slight hitch in his tone and Greg gave him a questioning look. "I don't know, it just feels like I can never be that same person." He closed his eyes and shook his head a bit as Greg spoke.

"You probably won't be Wordy," He looked at Greg, vulnerability showing as the genuine feeling came to the surface. "Do you trust me?" Greg asked seriously. Wordy nodded quickly.

"Course I trust you, yeah."

"You might not be the same person you were, you're going to be an even better version of that guy when you get through this."

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><p><em>Alright, it's late and I kind of skipped a big part of my outline. I think it'll fit better in the next chapter. Tell me what you think. Things are winding down a bit, maybe two or three more chapters but we'll see how long things get. Thanks!<em>


	13. Chapter 13

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 13

_Not done yet but I wanted to thank everyone who read and reviewed this so far. As much as I say that I write for myself, hearing your feedback, or frustration, or responses, or suggestions really motivates me to keep going. I'm glad I have an audience who appreciates the writing that I try to put out. Thanks! Oh, and I still don't own Flashpoint._

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><p>The snow was still falling rapidly as Wordy pulled in to the driveway of a familiar home, but not his own. He looked out into the night for a moment before fishing his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans and dialing the long memorized number. He looked at the clock as he heard the phone ringing, only now realizing how late it was.<p>

"Lane." Ed's tired voice came over the phone as Wordy took another breath.

"Hey Ed, sorry to wake you..." Wordy squeezed his steering wheel, part of him regretting stopping before heading home.

"Nah, not a problem Wordy, what's up?" Ed sounded a bit more alert but he was whispering, not wanting to wake his sleeping wife.

"I...ah..." Wordy took a few deep breaths before speaking again. "You think you can come outside? I'm in your driveway."

"Let me get a sweater, I'll be down in two." Wordy hung up the phone and tried to catch his breath. It had been a long night on top of a long day that never felt like it was ending. Wordy yawned. The coffee that Greg had given him was wearing off and though he knew all he wanted to do was go to sleep, he also knew that he wouldn't be able to yet. Though he knew that Greg hadn't particularly wanted to let Wordy leave yet, they both knew that they couldn't stay there all night. Greg had driven Wordy back to Headquarters to get his car, change into his own clothes, and fill out the paperwork for the time off. He had left a message for Dr. Luria but when they stepped outside and saw the snowy conditions they knew that most things would be closed in the morning.

He saw a light come on in the hallway and took another deep breath. _Doing good Wordy, this is a good thing._ He said to himself as he saw the front door open and Ed jog towards his minivan. He ran around the front of the van and jumped into the passenger seat, quickly closing the door behind him. Ed rubbed his hands together quickly before turning and smiling.

"How you doing, buddy?" Ed had a bruise up the left side of his face and Wordy grimaced a bit as he thought about the afternoon.

"How...ah...how's your face?" He shrugged and dropped his gaze a bit.

"Hey, I always knew you could beat me up, should have remembered that before sneaking up on you." Ed jokingly punched Wordy's arm. "Seriously, it's fine, Wordy."

"I'm really sorry about that." Wordy said softly as he raised his gaze and looked towards Ed.

"Forget about it." Ed said seriously as he looked into Wordy's eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder. After a few minutes of silence Ed spoke again to break the silence. "So, what brings you here at midnight in a blizzard, Wordy?" Ed propped himself against the door and the seat so that he could see Wordy despite the darkness between them. Wordy looked at his friend and then through the windshield before speaking.

"I had a long talk with Greg tonight..." He paused and looked at Ed again. "I'm gonna take some time off to...well to regroup." He looked at the snow falling on his car again and kept his gaze away from Ed.

"Sounds like a really good idea, Wordy." Ed said genuinely. "Hey, you get a snow day with your girls tomorrow, that'll be fun." Wordy nodded but didn't really seem to be paying attention. "Something else on your mind?" Ed asked gently. He didn't want to push, he was sure that Wordy's conversation with Greg had taken a lot out of him considering how quiet he usually was but a nagging feeling made Ed think that there was something else to be said.

"How do you do it Ed?" Wordy asked suddenly, looking directly into Ed's eyes. "How do you get Scorpio and just...just take the shot and move on?" His tone was just short of begging for an answer as Ed shook his head slightly.

"I don't know if I'm the best example, Wordy." He said carefully. Wordy quickly shook his head.

"Please...how do you do it?" Now he was closer to begging. Ed bit his lip as he saw a tear forming in Wordy's eye.

"I don't know, one day it kind of just clicked for me." Ed started as he looked into Wordy's eyes. "I kind of just tell myself that if I didn't do my job, if I didn't take that shot, someone who was relying on me would have been hurt." He saw Wordy nod but he didn't seem totally satisfied with the answer.

"Wordy," Ed said seriously to grab his attention again. "you'll have that moment when it clicks and everything falls into place, you've just got to give it a little time." Wordy nodded again and bit his lip.

"What do I do until then though?" He asked softly, almost meekly. Ed thought hard for a minute before nodding to himself.

"Just live." He said simply with a slight shrug. "Play with your girls, make dinner with Shelly, do your job, just keep on living and learn from what happened because, next time," He paused and gave a sad kind of smile. "next time we're going to save her." There was a long silence as they both looked at the snow falling before Wordy nodded.

"Thanks Ed, that helps a lot." Wordy said genuinely with a small smile.

"Anytime, Wordy. Seriously, anytime." Ed nodded and tried to hold back a yawn but it came anyway.

"I'll let you get back to sleep, thanks a lot Ed." Wordy said as Ed gently placed his hand on his shoulder again.

"You sure, Wordy?" He asked gently.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, Ed, thanks." Wordy smiled as Ed nodded and moved to get out of the van. "One...one more thing though if you don't mind." Wordy felt his chest growing tighter but he knew that he needed to do this for his peace of mind.

"What's up?" Ed turned back towards Wordy with a calm face.

"Could you ah...could you hold onto something for me until I come back to work?" His heart was racing again as Ed nodded. Wordy fished the key to the glovebox out of one of the cup holders. "My gun is in the glovebox," He gave Ed the key and then looked back through the windshield at the snow. "Could you hold onto it for me until my leave is up?" Ed looked at Wordy cautiously before getting the gun and the cartridge of ammunition from the box.

"Anything I should know, Wordy?" He asked as calmly as he could, not liking the implications of Wordy's request.

"It...it's nothing that Greg doesn't already know about." He said kind of vaguely. Ed nodded, still not really satisfied by the explanation. "I'm okay, Ed. I just...just don't want to tempt fate."

"Okay..." Worry was obvious in Ed's voice.

"Ed, you know I'd tell you if it was something serious. I just don't want to have to think about it being there." Wordy didn't want to end up in this conversation again so he hoped that it would be enough of an explanation for Ed.

"I trust you, Wordy." He said confidently though he was obviously still a bit worried.

"Thanks buddy, I owe you."

"Nah, we're all good, right?" Ed cracked the door open and was about to get out as he looked over his shoulder.

"We're good. I'll call you tomorrow." Wordy said as he turned the key to get the engine running again.

"I'll be waiting. Build a snow man for me with the girls." They both smiled as Ed jogged back to the warmth of his house and Wordy started to back out of the driveway, feeling like a bit of weight had been lifted from his chest, like he could finally breathe at least a bit easier.

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><p><em>Okay, making good time. Maybe another two chapters. Depending on how short things go in the next section it might only be one chapter, we'll see. Please review. Thanks!<em>


	14. Chapter 14

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 14

_So , this next section wasn't originally in my outline but I feel like I needed another section of Wordy and Shelly. I don't know if this will be the last chapter or not, we'll have to see how long this gets and where exactly I want to end it. Let me know what you think. I still don't own Flashpoint._

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><p>He found himself in the same place as the night before, sitting in his own driveway, exhausted and cold, but not quite sure if he wanted to go inside his home. Though he couldn't pinpoint what it was, he felt a bit less anxiety than he had the entire day. Part of him hated the conversations he'd had with Greg and Ed but he knew they were necessary and he knew that they were probably a big reason that he was still standing and still sane. He nodded to himself, as he got out of the van and walked quickly to his front door, the piles of snow already up to his ankles.<p>

He opened his door and was again hit by the warmth of the house. He stepped back out of the house, like the night prior, but gathered his will and walked inside the house, closing the door quietly behind him. He stood in the hall and slipped off his wet boots by the door before noticing that a dim light was on in the kitchen. He tiptoed past the staircase and into the kitchen, squinting his eyes at the light.

"Shelly?" He moved closer to the kitchen table and saw Shelly resting her head in her arms as she slept on top of a magazine. A cup of (now cold) coffee sat beside her as she stirred a bit at the calling of her name. Wordy stood next to her and gently placed his hand on her back, running small circles over the light nightshirt. "Shelly, are you awake?" He cooed softly in her ear. She sat up quickly, breaking out of her daze.

"Kevin," She craned her neck and placed a kiss on his cheek before leaning back in an attempt to see him. "Are you okay? Where were you? What's going on?" Wordy kissed her before she could continue.

"Shhh, Shell, I'm here now and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Shelly." He whispered softly as he pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. Shelly took a sip of her coffee and grimaced as she tasted the cold coffee and forced it down.

"Eww." She groaned before getting up and dumping the coffee down the sink. "Do you want a cup?" She turned and asked Wordy before pouring some out of pot. He shook his head, he didn't need the additional barrier of caffeine to sleeping tonight.

"Have you been up all night?" He asked as she sat down and took a large sip of the coffee. She nodded.

"I tried..." Shelly looked deeply into his eyes. "Kevin, please tell me what's going on, please let me in." She begged as she moved closer to him. He looked at his fingers as he cupped his hands, suddenly sweating.

"It's been a really stressful few days, Shell. I talked to Greg and I took a little time off." He smiled but she didn't return the gesture.

"That's great Kevin, really great." She wrapped her hands around mug before looking at him. "But what's going on? These past two days...you haven't been yourself..." Wordy took a deep breath and thought hard about what he wanted to say, what he needed to say. He looked out the back door again and saw the snow falling as he spoke.

"You know how sometimes when...when negotiations fail Ed, or Jules, or Sam sometimes have to take a lethal shot?" She nodded and her expression turned to one of sympathy.

"Is...is that what happened yesterday, Kevin? Because I know how sometimes you get upset when you can't save everyone." She rubbed her hand up and down his forearm gently but he continued as if she hadn't spoken, still not looking at her.

"We had a call yesterday, Ed was trying to find a sniper perch but couldn't get an angle. Jules was negotiating and Sam and I were covering her but Sam had to take an injured hostage out." He paused and took a few deep breaths, still starting into the swirling snow as it fell from the sky. "Greg and Spike were working on getting information but..." He took more deep breaths, fighting tears. "but the subject was going to shoot the hostage so I...I took the shot."

Wordy pulled away from Shelly's hand and got up from the table, walking over to the backdoor and looking out into the snowy night. He saw Shelly in the reflection of the glass but he wasn't sure what he was seeing in her expression.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Why didn't you say anything?" She asked as she got up and stepped closer to him. He felt his muscles tense as she placed her hand in his and leaned her head on his upper arm.

"Well...the subject...she..." He felt the tears in his eyes again and couldn't contain them any longer. "She was young, only a kid, twelve years old..." A tear ran down his face and he broke away from Shelly's touch again, moving back to the table.

"That must have been terrible for you Kevin, I'm so sorry you had to do that." Shelly looked at him with nothing but sympathy and concern and care and Wordy felt himself burning under her gentle gaze.

"That...that's not all." He nearly choked out. "The man she had hostage was her...her father and he was...well he was abusing her..." Shelly looked shocked for a moment but moved next to Wordy and hugged him tightly. She could feel that he wasn't hugging her back despite his tears and pain. She felt him trying to gently move again but she held firmly around his waist.

"I don't know what to say, Kevin." She whispered as she craned her neck upwards. "But I know that you were doing your job and as vile as that man might have been, you had to do what you did." She tried her best to sooth him as she guessed Greg did but she sensed he was still holding something back. "Why didn't you tell me last night, Kevin?" She asked softly. He finally succeeded in breaking away from her embrace and he turned his back to her and slowly walked to the other side of the kitchen as he spoke.

"I...I'm not supposed to be the bad guy." He said softly as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "I'm supposed to help people, to save them...I'm not supposed to..." He paused and took a few breaths before turning and looking at Shelly, his eyes glassy. "I'm not supposed to be like Blake." He turned and paced away to the other side of the kitchen running his hand through his hair. Shelly froze for a moment, the memories coming back to her as she thought of her abusive ex-boyfriend and the pain she had been though at his hands. Wordy had saved her from him and she now had tears in her eyes.

"Kevin," She said firmly as she walked up to him. "You are not like him. You will never be like him, ever, because you don't like to hurt people." She was in a zone now and nothing was stopping her from expressing her thoughts. "I know that you would never, never, do any of the things he did to me. You are the furthest thing from that scumbag and I don't want you to ever compare yourself to him again." She took a breath and saw his surprised face.

"I love you, Kevin. I love you with all my heart and I know that you did what you did because you had absolutely no other options." She saw him beginning to protest but continued. "If you didn't take that shot we'd be having this conversation, maybe not the same one, but you wouldn't be able to live with yourself knowing that you let a man die and maybe you could have prevented it." Wordy thought hard about what she was saying and, though he still felt the guilt and the shame and anxiety, he knew that she had a valid point. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, attempted whisper.

"Mommy..." They heard the small voice coming down the stairs and tiptoe into the kitchen. "Can I have juice?" Allie, their two year old, peeked her head out from the door frame before exclaiming, "Daddy!"

"Shhhh!" They both said hurriedly, not wanting to wake up the other two girls. Allie rushed over to Wordy and gave him a huge hug around his ankle.

"No juice, Allie. Do you want water?" Shelly said softly as she went over to the refrigerator.

"Yes, please." She said sweetly as she stepped away from Wordy. "Daddy, what's the matter?" She asked innocently, her big blue eyes looking up at his, seeing his tears.

"Nothings the matter, cupcake." He said as he picked her up and sat her down at the kitchen table. Shelly gave her a small cup of water which she took a sip from. "Daddy just had a very long day at work." He explained. She nodded but her attention was then caught by the swirling flurries outside the backdoor.

"Snow!" She yelled again.

"Shhhhh!" They again reminded but her focus was solely on the snow.

"Can we play in it?" She asked quietly.

"In the morning, cupcake. Daddy has some time off from work so we'll go to the park and play in it tomorrow." She smiled at him, nearly bouncing out of her seat. "But you need to get to bed, I'll tuck you in." He said as he stood from his chair and put her glass in the sink. "I'll be up in a minute." He said as she ran ahead. "Quietly." He reminded her again before going over to the sink where Shelly stood.

"Are you okay, Kevin?" Shelly asked as he hugged her.

"I'm getting there. Slowly, but I'll get there." He held her in a long hug and rocked back and forth with her before letting go and kissing her forehead. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, and I always will." She stressed the word 'always' as he backed away and went up the stairs to tuck Allie in.

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><p><em>Considering I wasn't even going to write that chapter, I actually like how it came out. So thanks are owed to Zadie, psyscaper, and fanfictionfan63 for convincing me to get a little more into the family dynamic. And as a side note, the name Blake as Shelly's ex was borrowed from Tinkerpanda and her wonderful story "The Truth in the Lie." I'm thinking one more chapter to go so tell me what you think!<em>


	15. Chapter 15

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 15

_Wow this story has taken forever for me to write. Sorry about that, but I think this is the last chapter unless it ends up getting super for sticking with me, incase you were wondering, I did great on my finals 4.0 this semester and I somehow managed to incorporate Flashpoint into my final exam for my Honors Philosophy class...yay! Alright, you know by now but I don't own Flashpoint and I'd love to hear what you think about the conclusion. Thanks again for reading!_

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><p>Sleep didn't come easily to Wordy despite the slightly lessened anxiety and the sheer exhaustion resonating in his bones. He and Shelly hadn't talked much after he went upstairs to tuck Allie in, they were both tired and wanted to rest and they knew that the following day would be draining with all three girls home and snow on the ground. He didn't know what it was but the snow always made his girls more energetic. They bounced out of bed early in the morning, running down the halls to inform their parents of the snow as if they weren't aware of the winter wonderland outside their home.<p>

"We can play a little later girls, let's go make some breakfast." Wordy said as he got out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and pair of jeans. The girls pulled him towards the stairs. "I've got it Shell, you rest a little longer." He called from the top of the stairs as he lifted Allie into his arms and followed the Claire and Lilly down the stairs.

"What are we going to make for breakfast, Daddy?" Claire turned around to speak with him as they got to the bottom of the staircase and Wordy froze for an instant. He put Allie down and knelt in front of Claire, looking at her with a sad smile before pulling her into a tight hug. He extended his arm and pulled Lilly and Allie into the group hug, holding them for a minute.

"I love you girls so much, always remember that." He said softly before letting them go.

"We love you too, Daddy." Claire looked up at him. He stood up quickly to hide the tear running from his eye before heading to the kitchen, the three girls following him.

"How about we make some pancakes?" He said as he surveyed the kitchen and the ingredients they had.

"Can we put nanas in them?" Lilly asked innocently.

"You mean BA-nanas." Claire correctly quickly. Lilly nodded and Claire smiled knowingly.

"No, choco chips." Allie crossed her arms and spoke to Lilly as Wordy stepped in between them.

"I'll put bananas in some of them and chocolate chips in some of them." He said placatingly. "Claire, can you help Allie get the chocolate chips and Lilly, can you get the bananas?" He asked as he put the pan on the stove top. The four of them got to work but it was slow going since no one besides Wordy could work around the heat...or reach the countertop. When Shelly came downstairs things moved much more efficiently.

"Mmmm," She said as she entered the kitchen. "Banana chocolate chip pancakes, that sounds really yummy girls." She said as she helped them set the table. Wordy cooked a few pancakes for Allie with just chocolate chips and then the rest of them with bananas. He placed the stack on the table as they all dug into the meal. Wordy made smily faces on their pancakes with syrup and the sound of his girl's laughter almost made him forget about the rest of his week.

"When can we play?" Allie asked with a mouthful of pancake.

"No talking with food in your mouth." Shelly said firmly as Allie swallowed.

"When can we play in the snow?" She seemed to be bursting with the question.

"Well, after we eat and clean up and get dressed and then we can walk to the park." Wordy said as he thought about the plan. The car was most likely snowed in and he didn't think that they'd want to wait while he shoveled out the driveway. Shelly took a sip of her hot coffee.

"If it's okay with you, I think I'll stick around and do some cleaning, first storm of the season..." Shelly looked down at her coffee again and Wordy felt anger course through his veins as he remembered the physical pain that Shelly felt during the first snow storm of the winter. After all the broken bones, dislocated joints, and strained muscles that she had endured during her time with Blake, her body ached until it got used to the cold.

"Of course, Shell. Why don't you just relax and watch some T.V.? I'm home so I don't want you to worry about a thing." Wordy said as he got up and gathered some plates. Shelly made a move to follow but he gave her a jokingly strict look. "I've got it, you relax today." She leaned in and kissed his forehead as he backed away and put the dishes in the sink.

Allie was nearly bouncing off the walls as she finished her pancakes and got up from the table, bringing Wordy her silverware and then running upstairs to find her snow clothes. Claire and Lilly quickly followed suit as Shelly brought them upstairs to bundle up and get ready and Wordy cleaned up the rest of the breakfast. Though he was putting on a smile with his family and his kids, he still felt a tightness in his chest that constricted his breath and forced him to remember why he was not at work. He felt his cell phone (which never strayed far from his pocket) ring on the kitchen table and dried his hands before answering.

"Wordy." He said calmly into the phone, not recognizing the number.

"Good morning Wordy, this is Dr. Luria." The familiar voice came over the line as Wordy froze for an instant before remembering that they left a message on her voicemail.

"Hi Doc. I figured you'd be snowed out today." He said as he took a paper towel and wiped down the kitchen table, needing something to do with his hands.

"Oh my office is closed but I checked my voicemail from home and it seems like we should try to meet very soon." She said in a conversational tone. "Greg said that you've got the rest of this week and the beginning of next week off and that your leave can be extended if needed."

"Yep." He said as he saw a purple blob come down the stairs, fully engulfed by a waterproof coat, snow pants, and boots.

"How about tomorrow morning then, 9 AM?" She asked.

"Sounds good, Doc."

"Daddy, I'm a purple marshmallow!" Allie yelled as she ran towards Wordy.

"I see cupcake, you're very purple." Wordy motioned for her to play in the other room as he focused on the phone again. "Sorry Doc, I'm taking the girls to play in the snow." Wordy said as he skillfully pulled his own boots on, balancing the phone on his shoulder as he spoke.

"Ah, well I'll let you get to them but I do have one question I need to ask you." She paused and Wordy knew what was coming. "Greg said that he was really worried about you, he said that you expressed some things to him last night..." Wordy grimaced a bit but spoke firmly and calmly after making sure that Allie couldn't hear him.

"I know what you're talking about Doc and I know that he's worried but I'm doing okay, better than I was last night at least."

"I'm glad to hear that Wordy, I really am." She said in a confident voice. "But I do have to ask, where are your service weapons?"

"I usually only had one at home and Ed has it right now." He said quickly.

"Good. I'll let you get back to your kids, call me if you need anything but I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Thanks Doc, see you then." He hung up the phone as Shelly came down the stairs with a puffy green blob (Lilly) and a light blue blob (Claire).

"Who was that?" She asked as the girls joined Allie in the other room.

"It was nothing, I've got to do a psych evaluation tomorrow, procedure." He shrugged as he tied his boots up. He didn't want to lie to Shelly but he didn't want to worry her unnecessarily.

"Can we play, now?" Allie came to the hall where they stood and asked impatiently.

"Okay, okay." Wordy said as he pulled on his coat and gloves. Though he knew that there were still light flurries of snow falling he seemed vastly underdressed compared to his children. He grabbed a cap from the closet and pulled a hoodie over his head before going into the basement and finding a plastic sled. "You girls ready?" He asked as they all jumped up and ran out of the house.

"Bye, Mommy!" They yelled behind them as they went out into the front yard and saw the snow almost up to Wordy's knees, almost engulfing them. He placed the sled on the ground and helped Allie and Lilly inside as he took Claire's hand.

"Alright, let's get to the park." He said as he dragged the sled behind him and walked with Claire down the deserted street.

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><p><em>I lied, one more chapter. I didn't originally outline this scene but I needed a transition and that transition got a lot longer than I thought it would be. The next chapter will be the last one and it will be up very soon. Tell me what you think.<em>


	16. Chapter 16

Like Eating Glass-Chapter 16

_I'm not sure if this ending is corny, I mean I could have ended it last chapter but I feel like there were loose ends. Let me know what you think please. Thanks for reading this, 99% sure this is the last chapter this time. Not that you need a reminder, but I don't own Flashpoint._

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><p>"I want to go down again!" Allie said as Wordy helped the girls get the sled back up the hill. He'd lost count of how many times they'd ridden down the hill and then he'd walked back up with them again only to repeat the process.<p>

"What do you say we take a little break from the sled?" Wordy said as they reached the top. "Uncle Ed said that he wanted you guys to make a snowman for him. Do you girls want to do that?" Wordy asked hopefully as they found a spot near the jungle gym that had fresh snow.

"Yeah, let's build a snowman." Claire said excitedly. "Lilly and Allie, you make the body, Daddy, can you help me get some branches for arms?" She asked as she looked at a tree a few meters away.

"Sure, princess." She took his hand and started to lead him towards the tree. Her hood had fallen down and some blond hair stuck out the back of her hat. Wordy had a moment where he again flashed back to Emily but he quickly shook the thought from his mind. He helped Claire collect a few branches and returned to Lilly and Allie to see the lopsided snowballs they had attempted to use as a body. He helped them roll the sections a bit more and then carefully lifted them on top of each other to let them decorate it. A smile came to his face as saw the uneven body and the sagging twigs for arms. _Got to send a picture to Shelly and Ed when they're done with this._ He thought.

Wordy cleared a bit of snow off the end of the slide and sat down as he watched his kids make their masterpiece. Lilly ran into the jungle gym area to see if there were any decorations they could use as clothes and returned with a little boy about her age, maybe a little older. He seemed timid and shied away from Claire and Allie at first but quickly added his contribution of pebbles for eyes. Their attention soon drifted from the snowman and they turned to making snow angels, writing their names in the snow with branches, and chasing each other around. Wordy watched them with a sad smile. He loved to see that his kids were happy but his thoughts kept drifting back to Emily. She wasn't going to play in the snow again, grow up, get to live her life because of his actions and he couldn't shake the feelings of extreme guilt that was building on top of the pressure in his chest.

"Mikey!" A voice came from the other side of the park and Wordy turned to see a man stumble towards them. He stood up and approached the kids but still keeping his distance. "Com'on, we're leaving." He said loudly, his words slightly slurred. Wordy looked carefully at the man and saw that he carried a thermos in one hand. He glanced towards the boy standing between Claire and Lilly and saw that he was quivering slightly. He turned and said sometime to Lilly before turning and starting across the playground. He stumbled a bit in the deep snow but eventually made it over to his very impatiently waiting father. Wordy watched him carefully, his adrenaline pumping.

"What took you so damn long?" The man said as his son stood next to him.

"The snow is deep, I'm sorry." Mikey said softly. Before Wordy even knew what was happening the man had pushed his son to the ground hard and was cursing at him. He heard Lilly gasp and jogged over to his girls first.

"Claire, take your sisters and sit right here next to the snow man." He said seriously as he handed her his cell phone and pulled up a contact. "Then call Uncle Ed, just like we practiced." She nodded and he walked over towards the boy, now crying in the snow.

"Sir, I think you need to calm down." Wordy said firmly as he approached. He was a few meters away from the boy and his father but still close enough to hear a bit of the conversation Claire was having with Ed.

"...we're at the park near our house...Mikey's dad keeps pushing him into the snow and yelling at him and Daddy said to call you..." He tried to suppress a smile as he heard her speaking clearly into the phone like they had practiced with all the girls.

"Yeah, well I don't really give a crap what you think Sasquatch." The man said as he grabbed his son's arm and pulled him out of the snow, twisting it in an unnatural position.

"No Dad! That hurts, please stop!" Mikey yelled and cried as his father held his wrist painfully behind him.

"Actually, it's Constable Wordsworth and I need you to let go of your son right now." Wordy nearly growled, trying to keep his anger in check. He moved a few steps closer as the man seemed to grow more agitated and took another long sip from his thermos. Wordy took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself down and think about his training rather than his anger. "Sir, I just want to help. Can you tell me your name?" He asked a bit more calmly.

"Back off, Sasquatch!" He yelled again as he twisted Mikey's arm further.

"Okay, okay, Sir." Wordy said as he took a few small steps backwards. "I'm going to step back, I just want to make sure your son isn't hurt. It looks like he's in pain, you want to maybe let up your grip a little bit?" Wordy asked calmly as he raised his hands in the universal 'no harm' sign. The man's back was to the street but Wordy saw flashing lights in the distance.

"Com'on Mikey, I said we're leaving!" The man said loudly as he pulled on his son's already extended arm, causing the boy to yell and cry loudly in pain.

"Sir, stay where you are and let go of your son!" Wordy yelled again as he took a few steps closer. He saw the familiar black SUVs pulling up to the park quietly, the sirens not on and Ed and Greg silently getting out of their car. Out of the corner of his eye Wordy found Ed and nodded subtly.

"Sir," Ed yelled out, forcing the man to turn away from Wordy. In that second where his back was turned Wordy ran up behind him and tackled him to the ground. He inadvertently released his son, who ran back towards Lilly, Claire, and Allie, and was surrounded by the SRU in an instant. Ed handed Wordy a pair of riot cuffs and helped him maneuver the man's arms into them. Sam and Spike moved forward and grabbed the man's arms to help him up and lead him to the trucks as Wordy stood and brushed snow off himself.

"Can any of us ever have a normal day off?" Ed asked as he slapped Wordy's back.

"Nice work, Wordy." Greg said as he looked towards Jules. She had gone to get Mikey so they could check his arm but it didn't look like he was talking to her. Wordy followed Greg's gaze and started to walk towards them.

"Daddy?" All of the girls looked a little afraid but Wordy put a big smile on his face and knelt down to hug them.

"I'm so proud of all of you, you did a great job." He said as he addressed his own kids but also Mikey who sat a bit to the side of Claire.

"Especially you, Mikey. That must have been really scary." Wordy said as he sat down in the snow. The boy nodded but seemed weary.

"Did you meet my friend, Jules?" He asked as he motioned a to his left. "You see, Jules and me are both police officers, we..." He paused for a moment as he thought of his usual speech. He had presented at the school career days for his kids and never doubted himself but he hesitated for an instant today. "...we help people and we protect people." He finished and saw Mikey looking hopeful. "And we really want to help you, but first we want to make sure your arm is okay. Does it hurt a lot?" Wordy asked gently.

"Yeah." He said very softly in a whisper. Wordy nodded. He waited a moment before speaking again, wondering if he should delve deeper.

"Does anything else hurt?" He asked gently. Mikey nodded, tears coming to his eyes as he pointed towards his chest and abdomen. "Can I have someone take you to a doctor to try and make it stop hurting?" Mikey nodded again as he lunged forward into Wordy's arms. "It's okay, Mikey." Wordy soothed him as he stood up. "Jules?" He didn't have to form the question to ask if she would watch the girls before she nodded.

He started to slowly carry Mikey over to the waiting ambulance, motioning for Greg to follow him as he did. "It's okay, Mikey. You're safe now." He said as he put him down on the padded gurney. "Mikey, this is my friend Tom." Wordy motioned towards one of the paramedics he knew. "He's going to see if he could make things hurt less, okay?" Mikey nodded as Wordy moved out of the way and walked over towards Greg.

"How is he?" Greg asked as he approached, seeing the anger on Wordy's face.

"The son of a bitch..." Wordy felt his anger mounting but he took a deep breath to try and contain it. He saw his girls and calmed a bit as Greg approached him.

"You okay, Wordy?" He asked gently.

"Yeah, I'm good." He was actually a bit surprised by his own answer. _Good...I'm good...when did that happen?_ He mused. His face must have shown the confusion as Greg smiled a bit and put his arm around Wordy's shoulder, turning him towards the ambulance and police cars.

"You saved him, Wordy." He said simply. "You saved him from the abuse, sure; but we don't know what kind of a fate he would have had if you hadn't been here today, if you didn't step in." Greg said with a smile. Wordy nodded, understanding his point.

"I'm not there yet." Wordy said in a cautionary tone. He didn't want to get his hopes up for being back to normal when he knew he wasn't...he could never be. "But things are falling into place." He said with a smile, the first real smile that he'd felt in what seemed to be a long time.

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><p><em>That's it, really this time. I hope that you liked this, I hope you told me if you liked this (I love reviews!) and I hope that we see a lot more Wordy in the next season. June 17th people, write it on your calendars! Thanks a lot for reading this. Some one-shots will be up soon and then I've got a Greg story I've been holding off on writing...that's my next project though so make sure to stay tuned!<em>


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